


Assumptions Burst

by TKelParis



Category: Much Ado About Nothing (2011), Much Ado About Nothing - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2019-03-04 11:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13363620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TKelParis/pseuds/TKelParis
Summary: The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.





	1. Once More Unto the Breach

**Author's Note:**

> Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[sykira](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

**Title** : Assumptions Burst  
**Genre** : MAAN  
**Rating** : T  
**Author** : [](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/profile)[**tkel_paris**](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/)  
**Summary** : The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.  
**Disclaimer** : Don't own anything Shakespearean. Also don't have anything to do with the Josie Roarke production that I adore so much. If I could make money off these...  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/) , whose praise has inspired me to try writing even more MAAN fanfics. This is your fault, lovely. ;) Also dedicated to [](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/profile)[**inward_audacity**](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/) , whose comments were the basis for this idea. And thanks to [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[**tardis_mole**](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/) for betaing.  
**Author's Note** : Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

This was supposed to be a “just because” present, but given how long it's taken me it's turn also into a Christmas present. Enjoy and have a Happy Holiday season!

 

 

**Assumptions Burst**

**Started September 2, 2015**  
**Finished December 23-25, 2015**

 

**Chapter One: Once More Onto the Breach**

“As satisfying as victory is, Pierto, there is a sweeter delight in surviving to enjoy a respite,” Benedick declared.

Pierto smiled as he followed his commander into the room designated for the celebrations and toward a table to the side. “Aye, my lord, and a greater reward in living in peace for those brave enough to master it.”

Benedick laughed as he took a lager from the person passing them out. “Would any who saw thee grow from boyhood thought it possible that a man bred by the sea could master a sword so well?”

“None not destined to be locked up for madness, for the swords of a soldier is at best a fool's weapon for a sailor.”

Their banter was silenced by drinking for a moment.

“I received word from my father,” Pietro said.

Benedick raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Is it good?”

“Yes, my lord. He sends greetings and Godspeed.”

That could only mean one thing, and required a certain answer. “Ah. Then resend word of my favour for both and my regards to your mother.”

“Yes my lord.”

“It is not far gone from memory when your father wished ill of me for foul play of my father's doing, Fifteen years hence and he regards me in better light.”

“He has peace in it, my lord; come to terms has he with knowing that thy honour hath perserved me.”

“Good, then my father will have to bow to a better man. Though we may wait another fifteen to see it,” Benedick added under his breath.

“Have hope, my lord, that he will also be more disposed towards you in the meantime.”

“I shall pray under static stars and wish under moving ones. But, alas, you still bide with me under false pretences.”

“How do, my lord?”

“That you regard me above yourself in rank and standing, when it should have been I who bowed to you.”

Pietro shook his head firmly. “Nay, indeed, my lord. You are the better man. False, my following is not. I have learned greatly what it is that a man may call himself a man. Before I began in your service I was but a boy. Therefore, with your grace and God's fair favour, I will tarry yet in your service until I am but half the man I serve, even if I am grey with years and bent with toil to do't.”

“I doubt it will be that long, but tarry you shall. For I have not met a man more worthy and steadfast to be my brother, be it arms, blood or service. You are my equal and better, Pietro,” Benedick praised.

“I am as red-cheeked as a maiden at her first kiss, my lord. You speak such words of affection and praise. I aim to be worthy of them.”

“And there, your aim is true.”

Before Pietro could answer, Claudio entered. He was looking for Benedick and his cheerful manners soured instantly upon seeing Pietro. “Ah, there, gutter-snipe's waif. Where have you been? Scrubbing your master's leathers twice for slacking?”

Pietro's eyes hardened before he turned his back on Claudio.

Benedick had to intervene. “Take heed, Count; my lieutenant here would have thee overmastered for he hath many years more in war. Let us not mar the taste of victory.”

Claudio was ready to retort but the Prince entered. All had to turn their attention at once on him, though he looked at Pietro – who also had to turn – with a promise. “This is not over, servant.”

Ignoring Claudio Benedick raised his bottle to their overall commander, the Prince. Pietro, not so willing to push the equals point that Benedick was permitted to get away with, bowed.

Don Pedro motioned for silence, which came quickly. “My men, a campaign well done! We have lost so few that the victory is complete!”

Roaring cries of victory rang through the room until silenced again.

“I declare I hath never seen such excellent conduct in war as I have in this. I shall require great time to bestow all the honours owed for thy noble actions.”

Cheers mixed with nudging fellows known to have done extremely well followed.

“Some distinctions I must acknowledge here,” the Prince continued once he obtained silence again. “To the steadfastness, approv'd valour, and confirmed honesty of Benedick of Padua!”

Benedick accepted the acclaim silently, merely raising his bottle in acknowledgement and smiling modestly. His aid smirked even as he raised his own bottle in approval.

“And to his loyal aid, who has stood by his commander for nearly sixteen years and proved that a man from the sea may yet be a fearsome land warrior: Pietro of Venice!”

This time Benedick smiled broadly and nudged his friend, who awkwardly accepted the accolades. But less so because it soured the Count's mood.

“And the greatest honours I must bestow on the man who so far exceeded my expectations, whose promise shines brighter than the midday sun. Feats beyond his age show that he shall go far. Raise your drinks again for Count Claudio of Florence!”

In the midst of the cheers, accepted gladly and readily by the young Florentine, only Benedick noticed that Pietro was not so keen to raise his lager this time. He did, but without any hint of cheer.

“Now we celebrate our victory, and then gather ourselves for a journey to our place of rest after the war. We are for the fair lands of Messina!”

Benedick stiffened, unnoticed amongst the roars of approval. He turned to his aid.

“My friend, will you go with me?”

“Wither to quiet?”

“More than can be found in this madness.”

Pietro gladly followed Benedick to an outside part where few had noticed existed. Yet they could still see and hear the events inside if they wished.

Benedick leaned against a pillar. “What troubles thee about Claudio? 'Tis not the beast of envy, which poisons the minds of all?”

The avoidance of the unease was evident, but respected for the moment. “Not for his actions, which I confess were valiant and aided in winning this last action. Honour and courage he hath in battle; only a fool would deny such. Nay, it is a more personal reason.”

“I did not know there was a dispute between Venice and Florence.”

“More between our fathers, standing from before my brothers were born.”

“Who offended whom?”

“His father angered mine for words spoken against my mother's family.”

“What man would speak ill of thy mother's relations? Is she not a gentlewoman?”

“Yea, though not of the wealthiest sort; not that my father cared once he was certain that she would raise him excellent children. The objection was that the late Count thought there was no need for a family to educate a daughter as much as my grandfather had my mother.”

Benedick scoffed. “Only a weak man seeks a woman of mean understanding. Real men of valour will look far and wide for a woman taught to use her mind.”

Pietro looked his way. “And have you not found such a woman?”

The older man slumped, exhaling sharply. “Yea; the fairness of spring with the splendor of autumn, excellent discourse, and will not let any man overcome her. I would be married except for her father.”

“O! Viscount Olivio's only heir. The Lady Beatrice is a fine woman. I do not fault her for scaring all those young bucks who courted her father's favour and not hers. But is there no way to convince the Viscount to relent and accept thee as a son? As a younger son is it not best to wed a lady with no brother or sister, for your obligations to thy father are not pressing where there are elder brothers and nephews to continue the line? Would a man not wish for his son by marriage to adopt his own traditions?”

“I shall learn that this time, having spent the past ten years accumulating wealth to be able to provide for a family in a style befitting a lady of Beatrice's standing. Yet it is not Olivio's wrath I fear. His edicts forced me to let Beatrice think I played her false, and so where I would woo her for her favour among women and to uphold her house, I must endure her tongue and feign anger at her. Instead her father would rather she be in the shadow that all women must take in obeying a lesser man than even my father.”

Pietro exhaled slowly. “I agree. I too am a lesser son and would rather marry a fair daughter were she an only child, to pedestal her honour and her family name rather than follow mine brothers and live in their shadow.”

“Your father would accept?”

“He wishes for better than my and your fellows; those who wish to be little more than dandies and enjoy all the sport they can fit into their lives. We neither could live such lives; we must be making a name for ourselves, seeking our fortunes in war and peace. All the wealth of Venice be as nothing in the face of the love of a good woman who would be my equal and not servant.”

“I wish that her father would accept that her wisdom is equal to a man's, and as such ought to have her own choice. I shall not relent until I know that she is absolutely decided against me once she knows the truth about why I left ten years ago. It is a dagger to my heart to have her thinking ill of me.”

“May the Prince perhaps become thy advocate?”

“I believe a man who will not make his own case in love is not a man a woman of character should seek as a husband. I must find a chance to speak with her when she is disposed to listen.”

“Then may God shine favour upon thee and support thy wit. I must worry about what I shall see when we arrive.”

“What worry doth thou have about entering Messina? Surely there is not a father who denies thy beloved her choice?”

“Nay, I have not spoken; my love is unacknowledged. Yet I fear I shall find myself on the outside, for my beloved was looking favourably upon the Prince's newly proclaimed right hand.”

Benedick's eyebrows raised. “Claudio?” he breathed. “Whose favour do you wish for?”

“The Lady Hero, your beloved's cousin.”

“Surely Leonato would permit you to court her. Thou have a higher rank than Claudio, good fortunes, and can claim kinship that would strength the family's ties; is not your father kin to Olivio's sister?”

Pietro nodded. “And yet I am a Duke without land, who gained my title from less ancient time than Claudio gained his. So in a sense I am inferior to him; worse for Hero plainly admiring him when we were in Messina before this action began. I would much rather earn another scar from sparring with thee.”

Benedick found a tiny smile breaking his soured manner. “To match the other on thy cheek? Did I not stitch it well enough?”

“As well as I stitched the one on thy sword hand. Little scars that give me pride, and I know thou takest pride in the proof of thy training. Both matches were excellent practice for this last action.”

“Well, I am sure the Prince shall ask for us both shortly. Let us contain our griefs for now, and venture onward. My only comfort is that this cannot be more uncomfortable than the row with my father after I broke thee out of confinement.”

Pietro gave a tight smile. “Go I to make my fortune with a legitimate letter of recommendation to Padua, making the most of the brief peace between our lands; and I am arrested as a suspected spy when war broke out again. I must thank thee fifteen years more for quarrelling so much with thy father than thou were willing to risk thy neck for a younger man of his sworn enemy state. What could I do but serve the man I owe my life to?”

“The Prince supported me after I presented my proof that thou could not be the spy believed to exist and that the word was not to be trusted, and my father was forced to relent. Of course I could not bring thee back. Never did I think that a man ranked higher than myself would yield so readily to a lesser.”

“Only in station. In character and valour thou wilt always be superior to myself. Blessed am I to count thee as my dearest friend. No one else could I speak such things to.”

“Nor I. I believe thou art more of a brother than mine own.”

“I thank thee for thy kindness and wisdom.”

They drank a moment in silence. It was the only source of calm for either soldier.

 

[Chapter Two: Fathers' Expectations](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124771.html)


	2. Fathers' Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted in sykira's honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

**Title** : Assumptions Burst  
**Genre** : MAAN  
**Rating** : T  
**Author** : [](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/profile)[**tkel_paris**](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/)  
**Summary** : The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.  
**Disclaimer** : Don't own anything Shakespearean. Also don't have anything to do with the Josie Roarke production that I adore so much. If I could make money off these...  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/) , whose praise has inspired me to try writing even more MAAN fanfics. This is your fault, lovely. ;) Also dedicated to [](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/profile)[**inward_audacity**](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/) , whose comments were the basis for this idea. And thanks to [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/)**tardis_mole** for betaing.  
**Author's Note** : Posted in **sykira** 's honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

This was supposed to be a “just because” present, but given how long it's taken me it's turn also into a Christmas present. Enjoy and have a Happy Holiday season!

 

[Chapter One](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124507.html)

 

**Assumptions Burst**

**Started September 2, 2015**  
**Finished December 23-25, 2015**

 

Chapter Two: Fathers' Expectations

Beatrice lay on the folding chair, reading and otherwise ignoring the world. It was only a matter of time before someone interrupted her, but she was determined to make that be short.

Only Hero's dancing around was distracting, even without hearing her music. It seemed her lot in life to not know peace for any length of time.

So it was with mixed emotions that she saw her uncle come up. But his announcement was not quite so comforting:

“I learn in this letter that Don Pedro of Aragon comes this night to Messina!”

Hero darted off to change into something more appropriate for meeting royalty, but Beatrice hardly moved. Even though her father, mother, and aunt followed her uncle into the room.

“Daughter, go and follow your cousin's example and adorn finer attire,” commanded Olivio, her father.

She gave him a dark look. “What need, Father? None in the army who would think of having me for being rich is worthy of thy title; certainly none that you would approve.” She merely stood to collect a lager bottle and put down her magazine.

Elena, Beatrice's mother who shared many of her looks, tapped his arm to draw his attention to the conversation between Leonato, her brother, and the Prince's Messenger. “Ease on her, I pray thee; I fear she is heart-sore.”

“I pray that not be so, for then it hath lasted over ten years,” he grimaced. To cheer himself he turned his ears to the talk of the young Count Claudio's exploits.

Alas that his daughter had to bring up that man! Only his wife's hand, pleading silently for caution, kept him silent.

“Faith, niece! You tax Senor Benedick too much; but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not,” declared Leonato.

“He hath done good service in these wars, lady,” the Messenger assured Beatrice.

She would not be quiet. “You hath musty victual, and he hath helped to eat it; he is a very valiant trencher-man; he hath an excellent stomach.”

“And a good soldier, too, lady,” the Messenger added, watching as she pulled out her pack of cigarettes.

Oh, she liked an opening when she had one. “And a good soldier to a lady.” It rendered the Messenger confused, allowing her to continue her fun. “But what is he to a lord?”

“A lord to a lord, a man to man, stuffed with all honourable virtues.”

She suppressed a laugh. These soldiers were so ridiculous with their pomp and circumstance, and she wished that their subject was there to participate, for she knew he would have an excellent answer for that. “It is so indeed, he is no less than a stuffed man.” She rounded the Messenger, “But for the stuffing, well... we are all mortal,” she added around her unlit smoke.

Leonato had to speak, to explain the situation to the baffled Messenger. “You must not mistake my niece. There has always been a kind of merry war between them. They never meet but there's a skirmish of wit between them.”

Beatrice spared her uncle a glance. “Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict, before he left to fulfil his duties to the prince, four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one.” The others laughed, the Messenger uncertain. “Who is his companion now?” she asked the Messenger, who practically sat on his heels. “He hath every month a new sworn brother.”

“Is't possible?”

“Very easily possible: he wears his faith with the fashion of his hat, it ever changes with the next block.”

The Messenger stood. “I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.”

“No; and he were, I would burn my study. But I pray you, who is his companion? Is no young squarer now who will make a voyage with her husband to the devil?”

“He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio,” the Messenger answered, pointing with the hand holding a lager at Hero, suspecting the lady's preference.

Hero and Margaret grew excited, but Beatrice all but groaned. “O lord! He will hang upon him like a disease. He is sooner caught than the pestilence and the taker runs presently mad.” She motioned Hero's way. “God help the noble Claudio, if he hath caught the Benedick,” she spat. “It will cost him a thousand pound ere he be cured.”

“I will hold friends with you, lady,” the Messenger declared.

“Do.” Beatrice winked with an accompanying sound, drawing wordless respect and admiration from the Messenger's lips. “Good friend.” She lit her cigarette.

“You will never run mad, niece?” Leonato asked.

She grinned as she blew out smoke. “No, not till a hot January.”

Olivio smiled and whispered to Elena, “There! She can hardly think well of the man if she speak so of him.”

Two of Leonato's men opened a nearby gate quickly. “Ah,” the Messenger announced, handing his lager to a nearby woman, “Don Pedro is approached.” The women of the house scrambled about as five soldiers entered on a march, Hero and Margaret rushing away for admiring looks, but Beatrice merely walked away to sit down with her lager and smoke.

Suddenly a horn blasted like a trumpet, and a golf cart rolled into sight even as Don Pedro spoke with the Messenger. The other soldiers parted to make room for the beaming man driving the cart, all but one grinning at the sight. The man ignored the scowling man as he tossed his cap in the air, inspiring the others – bar the only one who would not smile – to do the same.

As Leonato's servants went around to scoop up the caps, all of which could easily be returned to their owners, Don Pedro greeted his hosts. “Ah, good Senor Leonato! Viscount Olivio! You have come to meet your trouble! The fashion of the world is to avoid cost and you encounter it.”

“Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of your grace,” proclaimed the former.

“Never a truer word was spoke from the tongue of my brother-in-law; for we greet good times when thy shadow reaches our door, Prince of Aragon. Fine welcomes for fine men!” Olivio seconded.

“You embrace your charge too willingly,” the Prince playfully chided before giving each the embrace of friends. “Ah, I think this is your daughter, Leonato,” he said as Hero approached, well aware of her duty.

As the two greeted each other silently, Leonato remarked, “her mother hath many times told me so.”

Innogen and Elena gave him sharp looks. They would never not be angry with the implied tone of the line.

Benedick overheard and had to comment just before tossing Don Pedro a can. “Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her?”

“Senor Benedick, no, for then... were you a child.”

Benedick accepted that with a laugh, but did not come forward even when Don Pedro remarked on Hero's obvious likeness to her father. Olivio joined Leonato and Don pedro off to the side, which allowed Benedick to relax a little.

“I wonder that you will still be talking, Senor Benedick; nobody marks you.”

Benedick turned slowly, approaching as he spoke. “What... my dear Lady Disdain... are you yet living?”

Beatrice stood, smiling as she saw a chance for sparring without interruption. “Is it possible disdain should die when she hath such meatfood to feed it as Senor Benedick?” Pleased that he was willing to click drinks to carry on the verbal battle, she added, “Courtesy itself must convert to disdain if she come into your presence.”

“Then is courtesy a turn-coat; for it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted; and I would not that I had a hard heart, for truly... I love none.”

“A dear happiness to women! They would else have been trouble with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that; I had had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he _loves me_.”

His grimace hid the pain that line hit upon him. “God keep your ladyship still in that mind so some poor gentleman or other shall escape a predestinate scratched face.”

“Scratching could not make it worse, and 'twere such a face as yours were.” She drank.

He flinched. “Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.”

“A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.”

He pointed at her with his lager-holding hand. “I would my horse had the speed of your tongue and so good a continuer.” She gestured a granting of a point to him, and he promptly held up a hand. “But...” He sat on the ground. “Keep your way, a God's name, I have done.”

She hid a slight frown. “You always end with a jade's trick... I know you of old.”

He almost ripped his glasses off, but the sound of Don Pedro and the other approaching gave Beatrice the excuse she wanted to leave. He was displeased to not get a chance to respond, but with her father near he could hardly approach her.

His mood was further soured by Claudio's revelation that he was going to seek Hero's hand in marriage. Claudio, who lacked the proper maturity to be wed; who did not see his good friend for the man he was and let his father's misguided opinions rule his own; who lacked the confidence to approach a woman for her own merits.

And he could hardly let Don Pedro know. He would not speak with him unless he could somehow obtain some assurance that Beatrice would welcome his suit. If he had that, then would he seek Don Pedro's assistance with Olivio.

 

[Chapter Three: Desires Beginning to Collide](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/125941.html)


	3. Desires Beginning to Collide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[sykira](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

**Title** : Assumptions Burst  
**Genre** : MAAN  
**Rating** : T/M (some violence within)  
**Author** : [](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/profile)[**tkel_paris**](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/)  
**Summary** : The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.  
**Disclaimer** : Don't own anything Shakespearean. Also don't have anything to do with the Josie Roarke production that I adore so much. If I could make money off these...  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/) , whose praise has inspired me to try writing even more MAAN fanfics. This is your fault, lovely. ;) Also dedicated to [](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/profile)[**inward_audacity**](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/) , whose comments were the basis for this idea. And thanks to [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[**tardis_mole**](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/) for betaing.  
**Author's Note** : Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

This was supposed to be a “just because” present, but given how long it's taken me it's turn also into a Christmas present. Enjoy and have a Happy Holiday season!

 

[Chapter One](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124507.html) / [Chapter Two](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124771.html)

 

**Assumptions Burst**

**Started September 2, 2015**  
**Finished December 23-25, 2015**

**Chapter Three: Desires Beginning to Collide**

The preparations for the revels were almost done, and so the families could gather and enjoy some relaxation time.

Or should have.

Much to Beatrice's disgust, yet another man from the Prince's company had approached her father with platitudes in both hands and grace and words for her father in asking for the hand of his daughter. As if she were not a person but a commodity to acquire, or a trophy to win.

“I do not agree to marriage,” Beatrice interrupted, getting to her feet.

“Daughter, you will be silent,” Olivio cut in like a blade of ire-stone.

“I will not,” she responded tightly. “I am not chattel to be bought or bartered at the whim of a man! Least of all yours, Father. All respect, but this man is beneath me.”

“No man is beneath a woman!” Olivio roared, getting to his feet. “For far too long a count of years have I restrained mine anger at such an ill-mannered daughter!”

“This man has said nought of me in his finery and compliments,” Beatrice argued. “He sounds as if his head wishes to marry you in my stead. What of me? Doth any man on God's Earth even know my name?”

“Your wishes are of little import!” Olivio rounded on her, missing the cringe from his own wife.

“One after another men have come before thee and oiled your ego and dug about your vines with compliments, but not one had spoken to me,” Beatrice pointed out strongly.

“You impugn my honour!”

“Every gloating buck of Italy hath had his turn with words of spice to your ear, so full on himself that I fair swoon! I should marry the Pope instead.”

“Blasphemy so added to your repertoire, maid of Messina!” Olivio countered in contempt. “What wretch did you lie with, wife, that I have raised a bastard as mine own blood!”

Beatrice shrank from him, as stunned by his accusations as her mother. She sucked in a heavy breath, not daring to burst into tears. “Then a spinster I shall remain and wish I had been born a man that my heart would have welcomed the love of a father as myself and not a trophy for men to fight over.”

“I will not be spoken to in this manner! Perhaps a reminder of who is head of this House will tighten your tongue!” Olivio raged, reaching for his belt buckle to untie it to thrash her with it.

Elena threw herself in front of him as he drew it off and lunged at their daughter. “Olivio, please,” she begged him quietly, her hands on his arm.

Olivio thrust his wife aside, uncaring that she fell against the table. Beatrice flew to her mother's side, joined by Innogen and Hero, both having witnessed the horrors of the confrontation. He ignored this all as he looked at the suitor, still on his knee in front of him, having not dared to move or speak. “Leave. You have failed.”

The suitor scurried away, taking the opportunity as it presented itself.

Leonato emerged from the shadows as the ladies seated themselves, whispered to check on Elena who silently indicated she was unharmed except for her feelings. His fixed his brother-in-law's gaze with a harsh glare. “I pray thee that anger led thy hand to strike at a lady so virtuous she would not permit a known rake of great fortune to pay court to her,” he cautioned him, not challenging a man's right to strike a member of his family but reminding him that it was his beloved sister in question.

Olivio nodded and turned his glare on his daughter as he put his belt back on. “You have aggrieved me in public and in private, yet this day we shall say no more of it. But be assured, wayward child. This is not over!” he warned.

Beatrice took the relief no matter how it came. Although her uncle was not in her books for not speaking more strongly against the treatment of her mother, his sister.

Leonato changed the topic after handing Olivio a spirit on the rocks. “Was not Count John here at supper?”

Innogen was grateful for the diversion. “I saw him not.”

“How tartly that gentleman looks! I never can see him but I am heart-burned an hour after,” declared Beatrice.

Hero smiled, but tried to defend the man. “He is of a very melancholy disposition.”

Beatrice did not think so of Don Grouch. “He were an excellent man that were made just in the midway between him and Benedick: the one is too like an image and says nothing, and the other too like my lady's eldest son, evermore tattling.

Leonato decided to try to show how ridiculous her thought was. “Then half Senor Benedick's tongue in Count John's mouth, and half Count John's melancholy in Senor Benedick's face,--”

“With a good leg and a good foot, uncle, and money enough in his purse, such a man would win any woman in the world, if he could get her good-will,” she countered.

“By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue,” Leonato chided, more gently than her father ever would.

“In faith, she's too curst,” Olivio declared.

Beatrice took a philosophical approach to that idea. “Too curst is more than curst: I shall lessen God's  
sending that way; for it is said, 'God sends a curst cow short horns;' but to a cow too curst he sends none.”

“So, by being too curst, God will send you no horns,” said Leonato.

“Just, if he send me no husband; for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening.” She saw the looks on her father and uncle's faces and quickly directed her next comment to her mother. “Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face: I had rather lie in the woollen.”

Elena smiled gently. “You may light on a husband that hath no beard.”

“What should I do with him? Dress him in my apparel and make him my waiting-gentlewoman? He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man: and he that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him: therefore, I will even take  
sixpence in earnest of the bear-ward, and lead his apes into hell.”

“Well, then, go you into hell?” asked Leonato.

Beatrice smiled. “No, but to the gate; and there will the devil meet me, like an old cuckold, with horns on his head, and say 'Get you to heaven, Beatrice, oh get you to heaven; here's no place for you maids:' so deliver I up my apes, and away to Saint Peter for the heavens; he shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long.”

Olivio turned to Hero. “Well, niece, I trust you will be ruled by your father.”

Beatrice put down the lager she had needed after her confrontation with her father to speak seriously. “Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make curtsy and say 'Father, as it please you.' But yet for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsy and say 'Father, as it please me',” she finished with a gentle tease.

“Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband,” Leonato said.

“Not till God make men of some other metal than earth,” Beatrice declared, aware that his was an old complaint but needing to say it in any case. “Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a pierce of valiant dust? To make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle, I'll none: Adam's sons are my brethren; and, truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred.”

Leonato changed the topic by addressing Hero. “Daughter, remember what I told you: if the prince do solicit you in that kind, you know your answer.”

Beatrice saw the horror in Hero's eyes and had a prompt answer. “The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not wooed in good time: if the prince be too important, tell him there is measure in every thing and so dance out the answer. For, hear me, Hero: wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque pace: the first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerly-modest, as a measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance and, with his bad legs, falls into the cinque pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.”

“Niece, you apprehend passing shrewdly,” snapped Leonato, highly displeased.

Beatrice's response was as quick as her hands were to place glasses upon her face. “I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church by daylight.”

“I must declare that I cannot reconcile that with what I saw of the Prince this afternoon,” said Olivio, swirling his own rocks libation. “A grand match it would be for Hero, but I am sure that he hath looked more on Beatrice.”

“If the Prince is wise, he will know that a harpy as myself would never suit as the future Queen,” his daughter declared boldly. “He hath the example of a man who made a woman the mother of fools. Father, I could not bear enduring such shame knowing my husband did not value me enough to honour his vows.”

Elena sighed. “True, daughter, I have been fortunate that my husband forswore all that many consider their right, and I would wish that you could have such a match.”

“You have heard me before, Mother. No man my father hath shown me is such a man, and I hath not the proof that he is not of the ilk that molded his father, the King – who is, I confess, honourable in every other respect.”

Olivio glared her down, but held his peace. She was sorely trying his patience and his promise, and she had to know it.

/=/=/=/=/

Benedick's patience was sorely tried. He had had to keep Pietro and Claudio away from each other, avoid Olivio noticing him speaking with Beatrice, and then deal with her harsh words and wonder if she really did know who he was. So he had to pretend that his anger was all at her when the words about poniards were really aimed at her father. And so when she came and he could see Olivio coming shortly thereafter, he had to continue to pretend.

“Will your grace command me any service to the world's end? I will go on the slightest errand now to the Antipodes that you can devise to send me on; I will... fetch you a tooth-picker now from the furthest inch of Asia, bring you the length of Prester John's foot, fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard, do you any embassage to the Pigmies, rather than hold three words' conference with this harpy!”

It did hurt to see her react harshly, but he had to pretend he did not see.

“You have no employment for me?”

“None, but to desire your good company,” said the Prince.

“O God, sir, here's a dish I love not: I cannot endure my Lady Tongue.”

Beatrice's mocking sounds and gestures drove him to leave without another word or a by-your-leave from the Prince.

Don Pedro suppressed his laughter at how foolish he thought Benedick looked and gestured for Beatrice to sit beside gim. “Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of Senor Benedick.”

She did, and laughed. “Indeed, my lord, he lent it me awhile; and I gave him use for it, a double heart for his single one: marry, once before he won it of me with false dice, therefore your grace may well say I have lost it.”

He could not believe that. “You have put him down, lady, you have put him down.”

“So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should prove the mother of fools.” Her words silenced the Prince, as was intended. So she would let him know the result of her errand. “I have brought Count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek.”

The Prince had to hoot a moment over the grim manners of his current right hand as he stood to address him. “Why, how now, count! wherefore are you sad?”

“Not sad, my lord,” Claudio denied.

“How then? Sick?”

“Neither, my lord.”

Beatrice motioned the Prince over to explain, and he sat as she did. “The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well; but civil count, civil as an orange, and something of that jealous complexion.”

It made sense and Don Pedro nodded. “I' faith, lady, I think your blazon to be true; though, I'll be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is false.” He stood. “Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, and fair Hero is won: I have broke with her father, and his good will obtained: name the day of marriage, and God give thee joy!” he declared, all the while as Hero was led forward by Leonato and Olivio, with Innogen and Elena trailing close behind with more champagne glasses.

“Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, and all  
grace say Amen to it,” declared Leonato, pleased enough with the match.

Beatrice could not stand the silence that followed. She prodded Claudio. “Speak, count, 'tis your cue.”

Luckily for her she was not chided.

“Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much,” Claudio defended himself before addressing Hero. “Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.”

Hero's inability to speak prodded another retort of wit from her cousin: “Speak, cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth with a kiss, and let not him speak neither.”

Don Pedro exclaimed wordlessly as Leonato uncorked the bottle, pouring into various glasses with the aid of the others. “In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.”

Beatrice accepted that gracefully. “Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy side of care. My cousin tells him in his ear that he is in her heart.”

“And so she doth, cousin,” he said, just as startled as Hero before the pair went to the side after taking glasses.

“Good Lord, for alliance!” Beatrice muttered, her words only reaching the Prince. “Thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am sunburnt; I may sit in a corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband!” she added before sitting down.

The Prince thought a few seconds before he spoke. “Lady Beatrice, I will get you one,” he promised before collecting glasses for himself and her.

“I would rather have one of your father's getting. Hath your grace ne'er a brother like you?” He laughed as he sat beside her, and she continued blithely, “Your father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them.”

The Prince thought about whether to speak. The Lady Beatrice sat there, unaware of how fine she looked even dressed partly as a man and ignorant of how charming her wit was. She hated being told what to do, but he found it too merry to be offensive. Except that something vexed her in secret, not that she admitted it in public.

He took the chance as he offered her the flute. “Will you have me, Lady?”

She laughed, sure it was a joke. Until she realized no one else was laughing and she could feel her father's expectant glare upon her. Her breathing became faster, and her hands shook hard enough to spill some of the champagne. “No,” she gasped, “my Lord, unless I might have another for working days! Your grace is too costly to wear every day!”

“Beatrice!” snapped her father.

She stood, grabbing her hat. “But I beg your grace's pardon, I was born to speak all mirth and no matter! My manners surely make me unacceptable as a match for you.”

Don Pedro was hurt, but he noticed her panic and realized he was the only person who could calm the moment. “You do not offend me, for to be merry best becomes you for sure, you were born in a merry hour.”

“No, sure, my Lord, my mother cried. But then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.”

“Daughter, see to those things I told you of,” Olivio commanded.

For all her words of 'as it please me,' she knew when it was best to back down. She looked the Prince's way. “By your Grace's pardon,” she whispered, giving the tiniest hint of a curtsey before she hurried away.

Don Pedro decided he had work to do, for the lady's sake. “By my troth, a pleasant-spirited lady in spite of her cannot enduring to hear tell of a husband.”

“No, my lord, she hath mocked her wooers out of suit,” agreed Leonato. “Yet there is little of the melancholy element in her, for my daughter hath often said she had dreamt of unhappiness and waked herself with laughing.”

Don Pedro thought a moment, and voiced a sudden thought. “She were an excellent wife for Benedict.”

Leonato laughed, as much to silence his brother. “O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad.”

“That would not matter, for they shall not be wed,” Olivio proclaimed. “He hath not the rank required for a daughter of my blood. Prince, forgive my daughter and her frightful answer; if thee ist inclined toward her then I promise to work on her until the wedding."

“I would hardly have her be unwilling. County Claudio, when mean you to go to church?” the Prince asked, seeking to change the topic.

“To-morrow, my lord: time goes on crutches till love have all his rites.”

Leonato shook his hand and finger. “Not till Monday, my dear son, which is a time too brief, too, to have all things answer my mind.”

And so talk should have turned to the wedding. Yet Don Pedro could not entirely shake the thought that perhaps Beatrice did hold Benedick with affection and that was driving her refusal as much as anything.

“Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing: but, I warrant thee, Claudio, the time shall not go dully by us. I will in the interim undertake one of Hercules' labours; which is, to bring Senor Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into calling off their merry war.” The squawking he received was ignored as he poured for the others. “I would fain have it a match, and I doubt not but to fashion it, if you three will but minister such assistance as I shall give you direction."

Olivio's look of approval, given reluctantly as he would not go against the Prince, ensured Leonato's answer. “My lord, we are for you, though it cost us ten nights' watchings.

“And I, my lord,” assured Claudio.

“And you too, gentle Hero?” asked the Prince.

Hero's smile was instant and warm. “I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my cousin to a good husband by helping her see how she hurts herself. Yet permit me to use my knowledge of her to work upon her.”

Don Pedro nodded in acceptance of that. “As for Benedick thus far can I praise him; he is of a noble strain, of approved valour and confirmed honesty. I will teach you how to humour your cousin, that she shall not challenge Benedick so; and I, with your three helps, will so practise on Benedick that, in despite of his quick wit and his queasy stomach, he shall cease to nettle Beatrice. Go in a moment, and I will tell you my drift.”

He let them precede him, but stayed outside a moment with his thoughts. “Dare I meddle in this way? Olivio's insistence of Benedick's unworthiness is confusing for the two men are alike in many a way though they neither see such. If Benedick proves not in love and Beatrice able to be gently persuaded that she could become a worthy Queen then shall I woo her. For the man who gains her love would be fortunate beyond all means.”

He went in, nodding a greeting to his brother. He had no idea he had given fuel to his brother's anger, nor ideas for the cunning plan that Borachio had hatched.

[Chapter Four: Stalking with Different Aims](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126668.html)


	4. Stalking With Different Aims

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[sykira](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

**Title** : Assumptions Burst  
**Genre** : MAAN  
**Rating** : T  
**Author** : [](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/profile)[**tkel_paris**](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/)  
**Summary** : The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.  
**Disclaimer** : Don't own anything Shakespearean. Also don't have anything to do with the Josie Roarke production that I adore so much. If I could make money off these...  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/) , whose praise has inspired me to try writing even more MAAN fanfics. This is your fault, lovely. ;) Also dedicated to [](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/profile)[**inward_audacity**](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/) , whose comments were the basis for this idea. And thanks to [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[**tardis_mole**](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/) for betaing.  
**Author's Note** : Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

This was supposed to be a “just because” present, but given how long it's taken me it's turn also into a Christmas present. Enjoy and have a Happy Holiday season!

 

[Chapter One](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124507.html) / [Chapter Two](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124771.html) / [Chapter Three](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/125941.html)

 

**Assumptions Burst**

**Started September 2, 2015**  
**Finished December 23-25, 2015**

**Chapter Four: Stalking with Different Aims**

Pietro looked around the open area of Leonato's. His expression was grim as he investigated. At length he spotted Benedick, and his grimness softened into understanding. His lord was sprawled against a pillar, mouth hanging open and wearing the most casual of casual clothes. Clearly Benedick had partaken of more drink after the revels.

Benedick felt a finger prod him, but it set him off-balance and he hit his head on the ground. He let out a sound, and soon heard his lieutenant's voice.

“My lord, didst thou attempt to prove that nothing can force a man to loose more blood than drinking?”

Benedick groaned as he pushed himself carefully to sitting, took the cold compress Pietro offered and placed it against his aching head. He also accepted the cup of strong coffee he brought.

Pietro sat beside him, silent with his own cup until he felt a need to speak. “I'faith I spent more time yesternight in drink, for a man thwarted in love seeketh whatever solace is at his disposal.”

Not yet ready to speak of his own troubles, Benedick changed the subject. “I do much wonder that one man, seeing how much another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviors to love, will, after he hath laughed at such shallow follies in others, become the argument of his own scorn by failing in love: and such a man is Claudio.”

“My lord, may I beg thee to speak not of him? Heard I that he thought the Prince was paying court to Hero, and believed it until the Prince himself enlightened him? My heart is heavy thinking that such a man so easily led shall be Hero's lord.”

Benedick's grim manner softened ever so slightly before his body shook with rage. “I fear I have thought much the same of Olivio. Word hath reached me that he, when Beatrice rightly dismissed the stuffed soldier who thought he could become her lord, nearly thrashed her with his belt! How can the men of Messina be so beloved and yet so violent with their wives and children?”

Pietro shuddered, stomach churning at the thought. “I hath no answer. Mine own father never raised one finger against my mother, and I only recall him raising a hand against myself once; my childish recklessness scared my mother so that he thought one smack against my bottom was required to alert me to her feelings. Enemies he was not so liberal toward.”

“Given some I know he hath I confess myself in amazement that he hath restrained his anger so,” Benedick remarked before groaning aloud. “Ha! the prince and Monsieur Love!” He pushed to his feet, prompting Pietro to the same. “I will hide us.

They withdrew, with Pietro making sure their cups were not left behind as clues to their presence.

Don Pedro led Claudio, Leonato and the musician Balthasar into the area. “Come, shall we hear this music?”

“Yea, my good lord,” said Claudio, looking into the shadows. “How still the evening is, as hush'd on purpose to grace harmony!”

The Prince leaned in. “See you where Benedick hath hid himself?”

“Oh, very well, my lord: the music ended, we'll fit the kid-fox with a pennyworth.”

He did not see Pietro, and his words would have been quite different otherwise – the Prince's presence or no.

Don Pedro was satisfied, and commanded, “Come, Balthasar, we'll hear that song again.”

Balthasar, sitting as he adjusted his guitar, stood. “Oh, good my lord, tax not so bad a voice to slander music any more than once.”

His modesty, which had earned him the hand of Maria of the household, was not what Don Pedro wished to hear. “I pray thee, sing, and let me woo no more.”

“Because you talk of wooing, I will sing,” agreed Balthasar, who began strumming the notes.

Claudio's being transformed in delight. His wordless sound caught Benedick's attention. He turned to Pietro. “Oh, now is his soul ravished! Is it not strange that sheeps' guts should hale souls out of men's bodies?”

Pietro shrugged. “Well, a horn for my money, when all's done.”

Balthasar's voice was in the nasal range, which was annoying to the hungover Benedick. Pietro was more forgiving, but focused his efforts on making sure his lord did not accidentally place his hand into the wet paint or knock anything over when he silently mocked the singing and the accompaniment of Claudio or two of the gentlewomen of the house.

Benedick was no less in a kind mood when the music finally ended. “And he been a dog that should have howled thus, they would have shot him!”

Pietro smiled then. “Do not do him such a wrong; for what air is truly soothing to ears already rent by the revels of the mouth?”

Benedick waved in only a slight dismissal of the words, not having the energy to argue. He leaned against one of the pain trolleys and finished his cup.

Once Balthasar left Don Pedro motioned for Claudio to check where Benedick was. The Count, still unaware of Pietro's presence, nodded. Olivio not being present allowed him to be as free with his words as he wished. Yet they had to honor the spirit of the Viscount's wish that Benedick be discouraged; and Leonato could not be asked to go against his brother, not when he agreed that the father should be able to dictate who his daughter should marry.

He hoped that more peace would come from this as he began. “Come hither, Leonato. What was it you told me of to-day, that your niece Beatrice was in love with Senor Benedick?”

Benedick slammed his free hand against the trolley in shock, and then fled to another spot with Pietro before the latter could even half-heartedly caution him.

“O, ay: stalk on. stalk on; the fowl sits,” whispered Claudio before he raised his voice again. “I did  
never think that lady would have loved any man.”

Leonato carried it on. “No, nor I neither; but most wonderful that she should so dote on Senor Benedick, whom she hath in all outward behaviors seemed ever to abhor.”

Benedick turned to Pietro. “Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner?”

“I know not, my lord,” Pietro replied in whispered words. “But do not show yourself. Listen further.”

Leonato exhaled loudly. “By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to think of it but that she loves him with an enraged affection that my brother hath tried ten years and failed to cure her: it is past the infinite of thought.”

Don Pedro quickly thought of a response. “May be she doth but counterfeit.”

“Faith, like enough,” agreed Claudio, ready to help.

Leonato's explosion was not feigned. “Oh God, counterfeit! There was never counterfeit of passion came so near the life of passion as she discovers it. But my brother would wish it ill; that it be an ill-wind or fleeting. He is vexed with her headstrong nature. And he doth despise the man as unworthy of her. He is of Padua, and old hatreds are still bright in some. They, to a oneness are passionate.”

Don Pedro saw an opening. “Why, what effects of passion shows she?”

Claudio had hurried to check that Benedick was attentive, and only saw him with his back against a nearby pillar. Pietro was standing just out of sight. The count hurried back to prompt Leonato. “Bait the hook well; this fish will bite.”

Leonato struggled. “What effects, my lord? She will sit you, you heard my daughter tell you how.”

Claudio's nod was not enough for the Prince, who was desperate to carry it on. “How, how, pray you? You amaze me: I would have I thought her spirit had been invincible against all assaults of affection.”

“I would have sworn it had, my lord; especially against Benedick,” said Leonato.

Benedick looked back at his right hand. “I should think this a gull, but that Leonato speaks it: knavery cannot, sure, hide himself in such reverence.”

Pietro grabbed his arm in warning. “Tarry and thinkest more. What affection, my lord, hath the lady ere’ given thee?”

“You suspect some trick? I saw marks of love in her before her father forced us apart.”

“If not a gull then a parrot,” cautioned the Duke. “For it hath been ten years since she showed them to thee.”

Don Pedro's voice was the next they heard. “Hath she made her affection known to Benedick?”

Leonato shook his head as they moved, unknowingly forcing Benedick and Pietro to shift to remain in hiding. “No; and swears she never will: that's her torment.”

Claudio nodded. “'Tis true, indeed; so your daughter says: 'Shall I,' says she, 'that have so oft encountered him with scorn, write to him that I love him?'”

“This says she now when she is beginning to write to him; for she'll be up twenty times a night, and there will she sit in her smock till she have writ a sheet of paper: my daughter tells us all,” Leonato assured them. “And my brother would shut us up to secrecy. There is nought I can do to alter his path, even if I were to show him such paper.”

“Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty jest your daughter told us of.”

“O, when she had writ it and was reading it over, she found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet?”

“That.”

Leonato could easily see something like the tale they were spinning happening, and gave it voice. “Oh, she tore the letter into a thousand halfpence; railed at herself, that she should be so immodest to write to one that she knew would flout her; 'I measure him,' says she, 'by my own spirit; for I should flout him, if he writ to me; yea, though I love him, I should.'”

Claudio acted out the first part of his next part. “Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses; 'O sweet Benedick! God give me patience!'”

Benedick, watching attentively, straightened slowly and rubbed his face in shock. Even Pietro was silent from disbelief.

“She doth indeed; my sister even says so: and the ecstasy hath so much overborne her that my sister  
is sometime afeared she will do a desperate outrage to herself: it is very true.”

Leonato went so far as to mime wrist-slitting, which Claudio and Don Pedro each waved against, but both of the men in the shadows were stricken still with horror.

Don Pedro chose instantly to change the subject. “It were good that Benedick knew of it by some other, if she will not discover it.”

“To what end?” Claudio protested. “He would make but a sport of it and torment the poor lady worse.”

“And he should, it were an alms to hang him,” agreed the Prince. “She's an excellent sweet lady; and, out of all suspicion, she is virtuous.”

“And she is exceeding wise,” conceded Claudio.

“In every thing but in loving Benedick.”

The Prince's words struck like an arrow to Benedick, making him shake enough that Pietro had to stabilize him.

“O, my lord, wisdom and blood combating in so tender a body, we have ten proofs to one that blood hath the victory. I am sorry for her, as I have just cause, being her uncle,” Leonato admitted.

“I would she had bestowed this dotage on me: I would have daffed all other respects and made her half myself.”

Benedick could not hear the next words. The very idea that the Prince was even looking in Beatrice's way cut him through his heart.

“Hero thinks surely she will die; for she says she will die, if he love her not, and she will die, ere she make her love known. I fear if not by her own hand then her father’s, mark me. And she will die, if Benedick woo her, rather than she will bate one breath of her accustomed crossness. I doubt not your word, sir,” Claudio said to Leonato. “But if her father should see Benedick in her company thee implies he will not meet old age?”

“I doubt it not,” Leonato replied. “There must be an avenue we have missed, one that would appease my brother and bring Benedick and Beatrice to the truth.”

Pietro's eyes widened, showing that even he was being caught in the trap.

“She doth well: if she should make tender of her love, 'tis very possible he'll scorn it; for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptible spirit,” said the Prince.

Claudio had to defend Benedick, as he could see the man standing straight over such an accusation. “He is a very proper man.”

Don Pedro, unaware that both men in the shadows were paying careful attention, nodded. “He hath indeed a good outward happiness.”

“Before God! and, in my mind, very wise.”

“He doth indeed show some sparks that are like wit.”

“And I take him to be valiant,” Claudio finished. “Hath not the war prov'd so?”

As Hector, I assure you: and in the managing of quarrels you may say he is wise; for either he avoids them with great discretion, or undertakes them with a most Christian-like fear,” agreed the Prince.

“If he do fear God, a' must necessarily keep peace: if he break the peace, he ought to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling,” reflected Leonato.

“And so will he do; for the man doth fear God, howsoever it seems not in him by some large jests he will make. Well I am sorry for your niece. Shall we go seek Benedick, and tell him of her love?”

“Never tell him, my lord: let her wear it out with good counsel,” suggested Claudio.

“Nay, that's impossible: she may wear her heart out first,” cautioned Leonato.

“Well, we will hear further of it by your daughter and sister: let it cool the while,” declared the Prince. “I love Benedick well; and I could wish he would modestly examine himself, to see how much he is unworthy so good a lady.”

As the three exchanged silent assurances that they thought it all worked, Leonato urged them off. “My lord, will you walk? Dinner is ready.”

Once they were definitely gone Benedick and Pietro came forward. Benedick was out of breath as he reflected on what he heard. He slowly turned to Pietro, pointing in the direction they saw the men walk. “This can be no trick: the conference was sadly borne. They have the truth of this from Hero.”

“I am aggrieved that I appear to have spoken too soon,” Pietro agreed. “They spoke with such honesty and are men of integrity. Even Claudio, despite the history between his father and I.”

Benedick's reflections grew inward. “They seem to pity the lady: it seems her affections have their full bent. Love me! Why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured: they say I will bear myself proudly, if I perceive the love come from her; they say too that she will rather die than give any sign of affection. And that her father would rather she die than love me. I did never think to marry: I must not seem proud: happy are they that hear their detractions and can put them to mending. They say the lady is fair; 'tis a truth, I can bear them witness; and virtuous; 'tis so, I cannot reprove it; and wise, but for loving me; by my troth, it is no addition to her wit, nor no great argument of her folly, for I am horribly in love with her!”

“What will you do?” Pietro asked. “For to tread lightly, you must on the one hand deny all to the Viscount, whilst on the other bear your love on open view to the lady. In any and all lights, she will not take it as truth given your past wit with her.”

Benedick nodded in agreement. “I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me, because I have railed so long against marriage: but doth not the appetite alter? a man loves the meat in his youth that he cannot endure in his age. Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of  
the brain awe a man from the career of his humour? No, the world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married.”

Pietro had to smile. “Very well, my lord. What is thy next action?”

“I will go... prepare my papers so I may petition Olivio with the best arguments for my ability to provide for her and our heirs independent of her own fortunes. Never shall a father find as earnest a suitor for his daughter as I! I shall show I am not my father's son, that whatever his dispute with my sire hath no bearing upon my suitability as a son-in-law. Pietro, wilt thou be witness to my character, connected to the Viscount's family through thy brother?”

“In every thing, my lord.”

[Chapter Five: Sporting With A Lady's Feelings (Or Not)](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126972.html)


	5. Sporting With a lady's Feelings (Or Not)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[sykira](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

**Title** : Assumptions Burst  
**Genre** : MAAN  
**Rating** : T  
**Author** : [](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/profile)[**tkel_paris**](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/)  
**Summary** : The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.  
**Disclaimer** : Don't own anything Shakespearean. Also don't have anything to do with the Josie Roarke production that I adore so much. If I could make money off these...  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/) , whose praise has inspired me to try writing even more MAAN fanfics. This is your fault, lovely. ;) Also dedicated to [](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/profile)[**inward_audacity**](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/) , whose comments were the basis for this idea. And thanks to [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[**tardis_mole**](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/) for betaing.  
**Author's Note** : Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

This was supposed to be a “just because” present, but given how long it's taken me it's turn also into a Christmas present. Enjoy and have a Happy Holiday season!

 

[Chapter One](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124507.html) / [Chapter Two](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124771.html) / [Chapter Three](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/125941.html) / [Chapter Four](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126668.html)

 

**Assumptions Burst**

**Started September 2, 2015**  
**Finished December 23-25, 2015**

**Chapter Five: Sporting With A Lady's Feelings (Or Not)**

In the corner of the House where the ladies prepared, Beatrice stood to the side. Her clothing choice was intended to keep men at bay, and it seemed to work given her past experiences. She could only hope that it would continue to do so this evening. She dimly recalled overhearing the talks when various gentlewomen wed, and this hardly seemed like a night to make a woman truly happy with her own husband. Entertainment, however sanctioned by the presence of their mothers and elder gentlewomen, was not exactly the sort of activity that ensured a lady's reputation.

She wondered why it was being done in the first place. Not that she knew her objections would be heard. Both her mother and her aunt had it in their heads to do so whilst the men celebrated, and Beatrice could only imagine what they would be getting up to. And she scowled wondering how deeply involved Benedick would be. Would he accept the attentions of a whore?

Her heart twinged more than she would ever admit at the thought.

Innogen's voice broke through the quiet. “Daughter, art thou prepared for thy lessons of the evening?”

Hero blushed. “I believe so, mother; yet I am so nervous.”

“Nothing unseemly shall happen. Think of this night as an education to make the marriage bed less frightening to thee. Your aunt and I each had such a night.”

Elena nodded. “Yea, and it did permit us to approach the bed with less fear.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes, hearing all from her spot outside. “A man meant to 'entertain' is nothing like the man who holds command over your whole life,” she muttered.

Hero glanced at where she knew Beatrice stood. “Mother, might I have a moment with my cousin?”

“Your cousin who is not appreciative of the marriage state?”

“Yea, the same; I have words to speak with her and would wish for privacy that would benefit her more than myself. Grant me this one wish before I am everyday tomorrow married.”

Innogen nodded, stepping aside to speak with Elena and bringing the gentlewomen away,

Hero went to where her cousin leaned against the pillar, watching the moon rising. It was a peaceful sight, and the younger lady could appreciate it as well as any.

Beatrice smiled at her cousin's approached. “How now, sweet Hero? Happy art thou to see things that cannot be true representation of marriage?”

“I did not come to speak of myself; I came to speak with thee of thee.”

“Whatever for?”

Hero sighed and joined her cousin in leaning. “Is thou aware that many would say that thou art too disdainful; that thy spirits are as coy and wild as haggerds of the rock?”

Beatrice snorted. “A higher compliment many could not pay me.”

“But they also say that 'Nature never framed a woman's heart of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice; disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, misprising what they look on, and her wit values itself so highly that to her all matter else seems weak: she cannot love, nor take no shape nor project of affection, she is so self-endeared'. And therefore certainly it were not good you knew any man's love, lest you make sport at it.”

“God of love, when would any ever have the lack of wit to fall so entirely in love with a harpy as myself?”

Hero changed her tactics. “Cousin, I pray thee explain thy words over the years. I never yet saw man, how wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured, but you would spell him backward: if fair-faced, you would swear the gentleman should be your sister; if black, why, Nature, drawing of an antique, made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ill-headed; if low, an agate very vilely cut; if speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds; if silent, why, a block moved with none. So turns you every man the wrong side out and never gives to truth and virtue that which simpleness and merit purchaseth. Such carping is not commendable.

“Tis not carping when the man lacks one important thing; the ability to deserve your respect. Hero, a woman must by the law be ruled by her husband. Unless he is wise enough to see your own virtues and wit, your own merits shall be overruled entirely. What man who would place his fellows above thee is worth having as a master?”

That could not be argued. “No, when put that way to be so odd and from all fashions as you are, can be commendable: but who dare tell you that others doth not think so? I always thought if I should speak, thou would mock me into air; O, that thou would laugh me out of myself, press me to death with wit.”

Beatrice took her cousin's hand. “I press thee so that thou wilt think for thyself. Have we not both seen proof that a man's judgement is not always trustworthy?”

“Indeed; but can we press ourselves to the point that we permit a man truly worthy to pass by?”

“What sort of man do you speak of?”

“Why, that I am sure that Benedick loves thee so entirely.”

Beatrice slapped the pillar so hard she flinched as the pain hit. “Says who? The prince and thy new-trothed lord? What, did they bid thee tell me of it, Hero?”

“No, they did not speak of this nor entreat me to acquaint you of it; but if I did not love and know thee I might have persuaded them, if they loved Benedick, to wish him wrestle with affection, and never to let you know of it. And nor he of your love for him, which you bare in secret, Cousin, and have done these ten long years.”

Beatrice nearly pushed herself off the pillar in shock.

Hero shook her head. “Despite that the gentleman deserves as much as may be yielded to a man: yet upon all the things I said before I might have said therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire, consume away in sighs, waste inwardly: it were a better death than die with mocks, which is as bad as die with tickling.”

“What proof have thee that he loves me?” Beatrice demanded, hurt that her cousin would think of concealing this from her. “Why hath not my own actions been such an ill word as to empoison liking?”

“Beatrice, I could not do thee such a wrong. I know thou cannot be so much without true judgment – having so swift and excellent a wit as you are prized to have – as to refuse so rare a gentleman as Senor Benedick. He is the only man of Italy, always excepted my dear Claudio. And I pray you, be not angry with me, cousin, for speaking my fancy: Senor Benedick, for shape, for bearing, argument and valour, goes foremost in report through Italy. Indeed, he hath an excellent good name.

Beatrice sighed. “His excellence did earn it, ere he had it. But still, what proof?”

“Dost thou believe he played thee with false dice ten years hence?”

“Indeed; we spoke of wishing to wed, and I was aware that my father did not look on our talks with fondness. I begged Benedick to let me come with him, but he swore that he did not wish me to do something that would stain my honour. So agreed I to wait, and then he was gone the next day.”

“Cousin, he was ordered to leave thee.”

Beatrice looked carefully at Hero. “What? How certain art thou?”

“By being quiet I ca go about unseen rather easily when I wish it, and chanced upon a spot where I overheard my father speaking with thy father. Beatrice, my uncle refused Benedick's suit and commanded him to leave on the morrow. He threatened severe action if he did not obey. If not for that I do not believe the Senor would have left thy side! Permit me to describe that I heard last night after thee departed.”

_“What has thee so vexed?” Leonato asked._

“That commoner from Padua has me vexed," Olivio admitted, his face pointed at the fireplace, his troubled face alit by the glowing coals.

"What does that mean, my Lord and brother?"

"Ten years hence, he petitioned of me my daughter's hand in marriage."

Leonato was stunned. "Then why, pray tell, is Beatrice still unwed?"

Olivio turned to peer at him over his shoulder. "I will not give my daughter to a man other than the Prince," he replied.

"By commoner, dost though mean Benedick?" Leonato wondered knowingly.

"Yes, that is he," Olivio confirmed, turning to glower at the fire. "At the moment of his arrival, when other ears were not inclined, I pressed to remind him of my parting words with him, ten years hence."

Leonato flinched, but hid it, thankful that Olivio’s back was turned and did not see it. "What did you tell him, my brother?"

"I said plainly that I had heard his petition once, ten years hence, and disallowed it and sent him from Messina. That he hath come back more than once is for the Prince to answer. If it had been mine word alone, he would have been stopped at the border. I spoke plainly; do not impassion me on this visit with thine groundless words of self-appropriated riches and heraldry. They are not worth one Ducat. Thine flattery of my House falls as dust around my feet, to be trod like blasphemy under foot. I told him; thou art not and never shall be worthy of my daughter’s hand. And if thee asks a second time, thine House and mine will dispense with peace! And thee will meet death upon mine own sword, boy of Padua!”

Olivio did not hear the gasp that caught in Leonato’s throat.

“I then turned to my servant,” Olivio continued. “I set upon him an order that he should set a watch on the wenches’ whelp of Padua. If he so much as approaches my daughter, my household are ordered to escort him out of the gates and lock them behind him.”

“I heard this and other threats," Hero finished.

Her cousin clutched a decorative marking on the pillar, barely able to speak. “He did not play me false, but let me believe so because my father threatened him?!”

“I believe this merry war has been the only way he could speak with thee without feeling he was risking his life or thy safety; his own honour and care of thy honour hath placed him in an impossible position. I am sure he would have married thee then had my uncle not prevented it.”

“And my father's threats explain why he hath only approached me under the cover of the revels,” breathed Beatrice.

“Daughter, we must away!” Innogen called.

Hero hugged Beatrice. “Think of what I have said. Perhaps my uncle can be persuaded with the right daughterly pleas.”

As Hero walked away, Beatrice took several deep breaths. “What fire is in mine ears? Can this be true? Stand I condemn'd for fatherly wishes so much? Contempt, farewell! and maiden pride, adieu! No glory lives behind the back of such. And, Benedick, love on; I will requite thee, taming my wild heart to thy loving hand: if thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee to bind our loves up in a holy band;  
for others say thou dost deserve, and I believe it better than reportingly. Therefore to my father I shall go as soon as may be.”

Her mother approached from the inside. “Beatrice, of what didst Hero speak?”

“Did you hear us not, mother?”

“Not one word, you were so softly spoken that a butterfly pass by and I heard it clearer.”

“That to my advantage,” Beatrice replied, quietly.

Elena frowned. “You dare to speak to me with the same lack of respect you show to your father?”

“It is not a lack of respect, Mother,” Beatrice assured her. “It is the sound of my breaking heart that I speak with. And yet my father cares not. Would you, in my place, truly to otherwise?”

“Your disrespect of your father is repaid double on your mother,” Elena replied after several seconds of hesitation. “Have you not thought on such a truth? Never wondered? You seek too much in contempt and not enough in duty.”

Beatrice pleaded with her mother, the woman who had gently encouraged her education and the ways that were not always womanly for fear of suppressing her child's spirit. “If a man came to my father, and spoke of love and marriage, my father would deny him my hand. My father would wish for me only scorn from a man who cares little for our family’s traditions. I have done nothing but tried to keep them alive. Why is that so terrible to bear?”

“Your vanity and arrogance makes our traditions appear unworthy of a man’s care, Beatrice,” Elena pointed out after a long quiet of trying to find any words. “No man will ever love you, because you have dirties the name of your father in favour of your own arrogance.”

Beatrice was silent.

“Go and sit with your cousin and learn something,” Elena ordered quietly. And then left her alone without another word.

Innogen noticed her sister-in-law's high emotions, as tightly kept under wraps as they were as Elena returned to her side. “What troubles thee, sister?”

“I was forced to use words against my daughter's wishes, words softened from what my lord would use yet no less hurtful to my child. Am I right to obey so much when I see my child is suffering, when there is a man who she would happily have as I was to have her father?”

The younger matron was silent for a moment. Yet words came to her more readily than either expected. “Elena, whilst we are to be ruled by our husbands we must act to protect our children from harm; if such harm comes from their father then we must decide whether our vows to them are in conflict to our vows to God. If you believe that Beatrice is acting as God wished her to then thou must find some way of convincing the Viscount to listen.”

“What if he will not?”

Innogen knew not what to say. Yet she was spared by Margaret's antics aimed to prod Hero to relax.

Despite her mother’s words, Beatrice was not disheartened. In fact, it strengthened her belief in what Hero had told her. Nothing seemed to dampen the secret thrill of knowing the truth.

It was with a much lighter heart than she thought possible on the eve of her cousin's marriage that she went with her family and the gentlewomen. Although the shrieks she wanted to unleash were dulled as the thoughts of what it might be like to finally be wed to Benedick overpowered her.

[Chapter Six: Wise Words Unheeded](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127481.html)


	6. Wise Words Unheeded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[sykira](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

**Title** : Assumptions Burst  
**Genre** : MAAN  
**Rating** : T  
**Author** : [](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/profile)[**tkel_paris**](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/)  
**Summary** : The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.  
**Disclaimer** : Don't own anything Shakespearean. Also don't have anything to do with the Josie Roarke production that I adore so much. If I could make money off these...  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/) , whose praise has inspired me to try writing even more MAAN fanfics. This is your fault, lovely. ;) Also dedicated to [](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/profile)[**inward_audacity**](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/) , whose comments were the basis for this idea. And thanks to [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[**tardis_mole**](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/) for betaing.  
**Author's Note** : Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

This was supposed to be a “just because” present, but given how long it's taken me it's turn also into a Christmas present. Enjoy and have a Happy Holiday season!

FTR, you may want a pillow handy to punch for this and the next chapter. Fair Warning.

 

[Chapter One](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124507.html) / [Chapter Two](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124771.html) / [Chapter Three](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/125941.html) / [Chapter Four](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126668.html) / [Chapter Five](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126972.html)

 

**Assumptions Burst**

**Started September 2, 2015**  
**Finished December 23-25, 2015**

**Chapter Six: Wise Words Unheeded**

Pietro stood in the background to avoid catching Claudio's attention. He also wished to hear as little of the talk about the wedding as possible. But it had a downside; he was unable to help soften the teasing toward his own lord, and it seemed that the latter's wit had deserted him somehow.

Benedick could no longer take the teasing and stood after the naughty tease that he wished the Prince had not made when he knew of Beatrice's feelings. “Yet! Is this no charm for the toothache?! Old senor, walk aside with me; I have studied eight or nine wise words to speak with you, which these hobby-horses must not hear.”

Leonato was willing, aware that Claudio would be more relaxed for whatever else Don Pedro had in mind once he was gone.

He was surprised to see Pietro join them. “And are you sharing in these wise words, young Duke?”

“Nay, I am to stand in support of my lord.”

“When doth Benedick's wit require support?”

“Tonight, sir, my wise words are not for you alone. I beg of thee to entreat thy brother to hear my words.”

Leonato stilled and looked at the two men. “And your right hand is here to plead your case as a cousin to Olivio?”

“Indeed; I hope that my honour shall be enough to let his own persuade him to hear Benedick.”

“Well, I shall bring you both to him; God be with thee both!”

/=/=/=/=/=/

Olivio's mood was a bit lighter. He was certain that it would not take much more to drive Benedick away, not after the morning's efforts. So he could focus on getting Beatrice to accept the Prince's suit. He would only wait so long before he made her have to accept it without delay. The next time that Don Pedro offered would be when she would consent, one way or another. Or he would accept for her, and her free will be damned.

He had chosen to walk away early from the festivities for Claudio. He knew the young men would have a better time once he and Leonato left. Why his brother chose to wait a while longer he did not know.

He sat alone with his cigarette, enjoying the time to himself.

And yet the quiet was bothersome. “Oh that my sweet wife were here. Time would be more peaceful with her.”

He heard footsteps. “Soft, far too many to be just her, and too hard to be ladies. Who comes?”

“Tis I, brother, with two men who would speak with thee,” Leonato said.

Olivio blinked and put out his smoke, standing to greet his petitioners. He scowled when he saw one of them. “And what business doth thou have with me, young commoner of Padua? Hast thou already forgot my warning of the other day?”

Benedick took a page from his lieutenant's book, and let it pass over him like water off a duck's back.

Pietro raised his hands. “My Viscount cousin, I beg of thee to hear my lord; he hath been seeking a moment to speak with you on a matter of great importance and I cannot imagine a finer man to make the request he wishes. Recall that I owe mine life to him, which would have cost thy cousin, my mother, great pain had he not acted in my defense. And may I remind thee how dear my mother is to my father, and that what pains her he takes as his deepest concern?”

The reminder was unpleasant, but could not be ignored. Nor could he forget that his sister's daughter had married the Doge's second son, and it was said that the siblings were very close, taking their spouses as tightly into the family bonds as though they were related by blood. “Very well, you have engaged my honour on that. For thy mother's and sister-in-law's sakes shall I hear your commander. Senor Benedick, what words does thou consider worthy of mine ears?”

Benedick took a breath and accepted the papers that Pietro had carried for him. “Never could I forget your words about my station and wealth when last we properly spoke, but I have ignored the threats you made upon my arrival; hence I wish to show what hath changed in the past ten years. Every Ducat I could spare from my absolute expenses have I put aside, and I have gained courtesies from the Prince in addition. So my fortunes are now great enough to support a family in a style that would keep them very comfortable even without a wife's fortunes increasing that. This is where my fortunes have climbed to.”

He showed the paper to him, which Olivio looked at but did not take.

Leonato accepted it and his eyebrows bounced up. “I'faith, I have not seen anyone succeed in raising their fortunes so high. I see that Fortune herself was with thee. Hardly any of the frivolities that many a young man indulge in would I think you have spent a single Ducat.”

“Nay, I chose to avoid them all. What are they if a man doth not have someone to share his life with? No lady which my own family hath suggested would be able to engage my interest for longer than mere minutes, which would hardly be fair to them. Lesser men think that cavorting with the camp-followers and keeping mistresses makes a man; they could not be further from the truth. A man who would forego all such things for the love of a woman worthy of ruling if Beatrice were permitted would treasure her and her traditions as his own. I come to beg only the opportunity to speak with Beatrice and beg of her father a chance to woo her. I would let my actions prove to thee my worthiness to protect your traditions and honour your memory. I would relinquish any claims to my father's traditions to adopt yours as mine own, protecting them for my and her heirs.”

Olivio held up a hand and returned the papers. “Remarkable as your promises are, they are not enough. You are still not of sufficient rank to be worthy of the daughter of a royal line, and never shall be. Find a rich lady of lesser standing, for there are surely many who would like such a man as you.”

Benedick's jaw slackened.

“While you are a valued man of the Prince I cannot command you to leave Messina; but you shall not attend my niece's nuptials tomorrow. I need not remind you that you are unwelcome in my presence, or perhaps ten years has been too long for your memory?”

Pietro had to speak again, although he took the papers. “My good lord and cousin, you would risk your traditions falling away under the pressure of those of a grandly titled man who may not have the respect of your daughter? Has Benedick not shown respect for your daughter's intelligence and wit? What sort of a man would submit himself willingly but a man who has nothing to acquire from his father but his name? I myself would wish to do as he wishes; to take a lady who is her father's only heir and hold her up on a pedestal as I rule in her honour.”

“Young cousin, thy loyalty and words are noted; but he is not the suitor I have in mind for my daughter. A lady like my daughter is only fit to be a Queen.”

Both younger men stilled. “The Prince?” both breathed.

“Yea. She is under my rule, and shall submit to her destiny. Now leave.”

“If my lord is not welcome on the morrow, then I shall attend neither,” Pietro declared. He bowed sharply. “Viscount. Governor.”

Benedick swallowed hard, and managed a bow. But he could not speak as he walked away. His ready wit had nothing.

As they walked into the night, Benedick whispered, “Is it all come to this? Shall I never be able to enjoy the love of a woman who deserves to be respected?”

“If he hath not forced her into marriage before then he is not likely to press it,” Pietro remarked. “Perhaps if you make your case to the Prince he will persuade Olivio that you are the perfect husband for Beatrice.”

Benedick shook his head slowly. “The Prince hath always looked on her with some admiration. I cannot be certain that he will not decide he would rather have her for himself. How can anyone withstand such pressure? Surely all of her family shall insist. Peace, let me be for the night.”

Pietro knew when to be silent. There was nothing he could say. Yet he needed to state one thing: “I pray that my father is not driven to anger by disappointment in the Viscount or in the Governor's not persuading him otherwise. You know the Doge wishes he had a daughter to offer thee, and that he hath a unwed niece he has thought of introducing to thee?”

That was news to Benedick, though he barely reacted. “Flattering as that is I fear I may never be in a state to accept; but I pray thee be careful in thy words. I would not have him declare war on Messina, for the city could ill afford it, despite the Viscount's threat.”

“I pray he is more reasonable than that, but you know what he is capable of when angered; and he would take offense on thy behalf, for I am offended on thy behalf.”

“Still, beg him to not be rash,” Benedick pleaded softly before parting ways for the night.

They did not know that someone was near enough to overhear.

/=/=/=/=/

Don John thought the plan was going well. Claudio seemed ready to believe it. Drink was such a blessing to a villain's deeds.

But Don Pedro was unwilling to believe it, and not even his typical words were working. He recalled that his brother seemed to look favorably upon Hero's cousin. That had to be the cause.

Lucky for him, he had the right words to add to force his brother into his way.

"Ignore me, as you will, half-brother, but if I am right and you ignore my warnings out of a man's desire for Hero's cousin, this foul deed will splice thee from your vaulted seat of respect and honour and from our father's throne and deftly set me in thy stead as his successor. This match between the Count and the lady was your doing. Would'st thou really be that blinded with drink and love as to ignore my warning when it is your dishonour that will be bitten and me on the throne? I don't want the throne. By God, the world is abed with war as it is! Fear it twice as bad if I were to take but portion of it as my own!"

The pain in the Prince's eyes told the Bastard that he would fall into line.

And he certainly saw the pain that Don Pedro felt upon knowing he had to give up on any thought of Beatrice. Not that Don John cared, but it delighted him to know that he thwarted his own brother's wishes.

/=/=/=/=/

Benedick paced in the dimly lit gardens, needing a moment of peace and quiet. Oh, there was little of the latter to be found as there was a great coil around Leonato's this evening.

“Olivio's words hang over my head, weighing me down like an anchor dropped into the sea. War hath taught me that rank doth not ensure nobility, and it also doth not mean that a person is truly better because of their family history. How could a man so renown for his awareness and willingness to permit his talented daughter to be well educated not see that she requires a special touch in a husband? I do not pretend to be that man, but I yearn to be; I hath wanted that almost since I met Beatrice. What now?”

Footsteps interrupted his musings. “Soft, who comes near?” He glanced at his watch. “Tis a late hour; why would anyone be out unless they are part of the celebrations?” He stilled. "I wonder if is was the watch Olivio threatened to set upon me, though I hath not seen any servant of Olivio’s employ; perhaps Leonato hath a hand in the watch’s retraction?"

He leaned to get a better look, and sucked in a breath. “Here comes Beatrice, and Hero and their mothers with them. What mean they going about without gentlewomen, maids or footmen in escort?”

So he approached, allowing them to hear his footsteps and catch a glimpse of him in the moonlight. “Good evening, ladies. What doth four beautiful women mean going about alone?”

Beatrice started at seeing him, flushing and praying he could not see. “We were at the pub, honouring Hero's nuptials tomorrow; when a ruffian stole her veil our mothers decided it was time to return for sleep.”

“A ruffian? Are you hurt, Lady Hero?”

“Only my comfort. I could not see his face in the dark, but there was something familiar about it. And then he took it right off my head. Beatrice tried to take it back, but my aunt prevented her.”

“I could not let my daughter risk herself so over a mere trifle,” Elena justified.

“Entirely proper,” Benedick remarked. “But you have no escort?”

Innogen shook her head. “We felt that it was not proper given that daughters must be given some education to make their marriages a success; but forgive me that I cannot speak more frankly before a man not of the family.”

He understood that she could not speak of the exact details, perhaps not even with a man who was part of their family. Certainly not, knowing who ruled their lives. “Would you permit me to walk you to Leonato's door, so I may know that you returned safely?”

He asked as much because he could tell that Beatrice had imbibed more than he was comfortable seeing. What could have driven her to such an extreme? He hoped he would have a chance to ask.

But it left him with only the honor of ensuring their safety. He had to be silent as it was evident that the only talking that any were up to was comforting Hero from the unease she felt.

Beatrice was not inclined to speak, but he noted that she was constantly looking his way. He caught her eye and received a tiny smile before she looked away with a flush.

Benedick, still smarting from what her father had said, decided to speak softly. “You will be well, my lady?”

“Do I look ill?”

There was not her usual venom, which told him that she was not feeling herself. He gave a wry smile. “I believe that is how I looked after last night's revels, when I felt angry enough to drink more than I ought to have.”

She blinked. “You admit to getting sick with drink?”

“Aye, it is a common failing among men; though I should hope it is not the cause of thy lack of usual spirits, for I do not think we have had such a civil discourse in years. Not that I feel it right, and yet it would be preferable for a merry war to be entirely in jest.”

It was the gentlest he had been with her since their last honest talk, before he had suddenly left. Now that she knew the cause she felt a little uncertain how to act. “Such uncommon care you are taking toward us, Senor.”

“It ought to be the usual way; is not a lady's honour the most important thing to protect, far and away above a man's own?”

“Even if the man insists on the lady not acting in a manner that would secure the happiness of both?”

“Alas that society would not attach penance to any actions out of the way; I would not see thy name tarnished for the wide world.”

They had arrived, and had to part. Elena reached for Beatrice's hand. The younger woman took it, but turned around as she walked into the house. “Then all is forgiven, Senor Benedick. Until the morrow, then.”

He could not find the words to tell her that he would not see her save for some miracle. “Farewell, my love,” he whispered before walking off to his quarters, grateful that the moon was hiding his tears.

/=/=/=/=/

Beatrice knew she should be going to get ready for the wedding, but she had to do one thing first. It might be her only chance to make her case.

She entered the room where she was told her father and mother would be. Sure enough they were both ready.

Elena was horrified. “Beatrice! How is it thou art not prepared to honour thy cousin?!”

“I would speak with both of thee immediately. It is important.”

Olivio sighed. “What is it that concerns thee, daughter, that you would put off thy preparations?”

“Father, I know that you sent Benedick away ten years ago. Hero overheard you say something and thought I deserved to know what she realised had happened.”

Neither was prepared to hear that. Elena looked for confirmation from her husband, and could see the truth of their daughter's statement in the anger on her husband's face.

“Father, no man has honoured myself so much as Benedick. No man of a title could possibly come close to his innate nobility and sense of right. He would be a worthy Viscount, and he is in truth the only man I could ever love and respect enough to permit myself to fall under his rule.”

“Lord, she is admitting that there is a such a man for her!” Elena cried. “What of all the words spoken against him?”

“Those were when I thought he had played me with false dice. Now I know it was my father's dictates. I wished him to take me away, and he would not. He insisted on speaking with thee first, and then the next thing I knew he had left without a word! Father, how could thee permit me to endure such heartache for over ten years?!”

“Daughter, you know not what is necessary for the sake of House and future. A man who is but a commoner as he is but a third son is someone not worthy of thee.”

“I have seen with mine own eyes that a title doth not ensure nobility or honour!”

“You would accuse the Prince of such?”

“A better man would not have wooed a lady on behalf of another, forcing her to endure the threat of being pressured to marry himself! And surely his interest in me would not be so great if I were not wealthier than he because of mine inheritance!”

“Pray, silence, daughter! Thou shall forget Benedick! He has always been unworthy of thee, and I sent away that pup for thine own good! Once Hero is wed to the Count I shall be speaking with the Prince. Thy answer when he next approaches thee shall be what I expect!”

“Husband-” Elena pleaded.

“It shall be!” Olivio bellowed.

Beatrice's eyes watered as she shook. But then a hard look crossed her face. “I swear if you endevour to shackle me to the Prince, a man you know I do not respect enough to trust with my dowry or my body, our line shall die with me for you shall find my body dead with my wrist slit by my own hand before I will be wedded to him!”

“Daughter!” Elena cried as Beatrice fled the room fighting back tears.

Olivio was silent, stricken by the very words. Leonato had admitted hinting in the deception played on Benedick that Beatrice might do such an outrage to herself, but he never thought it might be a true danger.

His wife turned on him. “Is such a connection worth our child's health? Her very state of mind? Her life?! Husband, the Prince hath not been nearly as respectful of myself and my honour as Senor Benedick hath.”

“Peace, wife!” he cried, thinking quickly to reassure himself as Leonato joined them, looking rather shaken. “I shall ensure she is not left alone. The Prince shall persuade her that Benedick is worth forgetting.”

Elena stood taller, suddenly looking very much like her daughter. “You could never suppress her in the years prior; what makes thee certain it shall work now? I fear thy bed shall be very cold tonight and perhaps forever. I would rather go with my daughter to a convent than to bear the foul words of thy tongue for another day. Better did I think of thee when wooed and my heart is broken seeing that I have been entirely deceived by my husband. I shall pray to god that at Hero's nuptials thy feelings shall be in better regulation, for if Beatrice dies so will I.”

She walked off, ignoring his command that she attend him.

Olivio stilled. “Whenever did the wonderful Elena disobey me? She hath never challenged my authority, not to this extent!”

Leonato sat beside him. “Would that I had better news, but I fear the merchants have beset themselves into a fright that I cannot talk them out of.”

“Thy daughter is to be wedded to a man of the very bent of honour, according to report. What could possibly beset thee?”

“Last night was a merchant returning to his home from my house, and overheard Benedick and the Duke speaking as they walked away; the Duke – who for certain was offended on his lord's behalf – indicated that his father, the Doge, would take equal offence at thy refusal to permit Benedick's suit.”

“Ha! The ruler of Venice taking offence on behalf of the son of his enemy?”

“I would have doubted it, except not only is this man known for speaking true I have word through the men in the Prince's service who are from Messina. The Doge hath issued that Benedick hath safe passage to and from Venice for life: a surer sign of his pardoning him of any wrong he considers the Lord of Padua to have done the Duke could not exist!”

“It doth not change that the Lord of Padua beset my party on the roads to the city!”

“Nay, I agree that cannot be forgot; and yet their fears may be justified!”

“How so?”

“The soldiers hath also assured me that the Doge wished he had a daughter unmarried and of an age that Benedick might become his son. A man would do a great deal for someone he thinks so of, and more so for one whom he owes his youngest's life; it is known across the King's lands that the Doge is fond of the Duke and is in close contact with him. Word shall surely reach him of thy dismissal of Benedick, and the merchants fear that Venice shall declare war on Messina.”

Olivio was silent for several seconds, but slowly shook his head again. “I will not believe it.”

“I would have found stronger words to dismiss their fears if not word reached me that the Lord of Padua and the Doge of Venice have a mutual enemy: Claudio's father. It seems he did them both a wrong, and the bad blood hath been ta'en up by Claudio who is known for speaking ill of the Duke to his face.”

“What?! May be Pietro of Venice's rank be newer, yet he is still Claudio's superior. Marry, he is my superior!”

“Whatever the source the Doge still holds it against the son. Knowing that he is allying himself to the city you hail from makes the merchants' fears less impossible. Brother, Messina cannot defend itself against the might of Venice; should the Doge act as feared I know not if the King himself can stop him.”

Olivio thought quickly. “Then we shall speak with the Prince as soon as Hero is married; perhaps he can speak first with the Doge to prevent such an action. Meantime, Brother, let us away. I pray my wife shall have calmed enough to remember why she accepted me.”

Leonato did not smile. “She had suitors of higher rank, and chose thee because she thought thy character superior to them all; that she did not have to leave Messina added to thy attractions. I fear my sister and niece are more alike than you would wish.”

That left the Viscount silent.

[Chapter Seven: Social Murder](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127883.html)


	7. Social Murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[sykira](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

**Title** : Assumptions Burst  
**Genre** : MAAN  
**Rating** : T  
**Author** : [](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/profile)[**tkel_paris**](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/)  
**Summary** : The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.  
**Disclaimer** : Don't own anything Shakespearean. Also don't have anything to do with the Josie Roarke production that I adore so much. If I could make money off these...  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/) , whose praise has inspired me to try writing even more MAAN fanfics. This is your fault, lovely. ;) Also dedicated to [](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/profile)[**inward_audacity**](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/) , whose comments were the basis for this idea. And thanks to [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[**tardis_mole**](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/) for betaing.  
**Author's Note** : Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

This was supposed to be a “just because” present, but given how long it's taken me it's turn also into a Christmas present. Enjoy and have a Happy Holiday season!

Fair warning: that pillow I mentioned last chapter? You'll really want it here...

 

[Chapter One](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124507.html) / [Chapter Two](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124771.html) / [Chapter Three](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/125941.html) / [Chapter Four](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126668.html) / [Chapter Five](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126972.html) / [Chapter Six](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127481.html)

 

**Assumptions Burst**

**Started September 2, 2015  
Finished December 23-25, 2015**

**Chapter Seven: Social Murder**

It should have been an absolutely joyful day. The assembly was looking around expecting nothing but joy.

Seeing the Prince and Claudio looking grim set many minds wondering what had happened to somber both lords. They should each have been looking supportive and nervous respectively. And many thought Don Pedro should have been looking around to see why neither Benedick nor Pietro were present.

But it was nothing compared to seeing Beatrice march in her heels, looking almost murderous. Or that she would not sit next to her parents without sending her father a deeply nasty glare. Never mind that her mother seemed to support her, whatever the dispute was; it was clear that Olivio, while lord and master, was unable to exert the control he wished to. And he seemed distracted by something.

Those who had witnessed the Constable trying to speak with Leonato were baffled as to what the man had meant to say. It was assumed that whoever needed to be examined was not accused of a serious crime.

Fortunately for the state of the peace the wedding music began, thus stopping any and all potential arguments.

Friar Francis began with the preliminaries. “You come hither, my lord, to marry this lady.”

“No.”

The answer threw a few attendees off. Leonato played it off as a language correction. “To be married to her: friar, you come to marry her.”

Friar Francis decided to carry on. “Lady, you come hither to be married to this count.”

“I do,” Hero said, her calm undented by the strange and somber mood of the Count.

“If either of you know any inward impediment why you should not be conjoined, charge you, on your souls, to utter it,” the Friar gently implored them.

Claudio looked at the woman he stood beside. “Know you any, Hero?”

“None, my lord.”

Friar Francis looked to Claudio. “Know you any, count?”

Leonato decided to speak, aiming to push things along. “I dare make his answer, none.”

“O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not knowing what they do!” cried Claudio, quieting the assembly. “Stand thee by, friar. Father, by your leave: will you with free and unconstrained soul give me this maid, your daughter?” he asked Leonato.

“As freely, son, as God did give her to me,” came his easy answer.

Claudio looked at Don Pedro. “And what have I to give you back, whose worth may counterpoise this rich and precious gift?”

“Nothing, unless you render her again,” said the Prince.

“Sweet prince, you learn me noble thankfulness.” Claudio took Hero's hand, and then shoved her at Leonato. “There, Leonato, take her back again: give not this rotten orange to your friend; she's but the sign and semblance of her honour. Behold how like a maid she blushes here! O, what authority and show of truth can cunning sin cover itself withal! Comes not that blood as modest evidence to witness simple virtue? Would you not swear, all you that see her, that she were a maid, by these exterior shows? But she is none: she knows the heat of a luxurious bed; her blush is guiltiness, not modesty.”

“What do you mean, my lord?!” burst Olivio, standing beside Leonato as he stabilized the stunned Hero.

“Not to be married, not to knit my soul to an approved wanton.”

Leonato stepped forward angrily. “Dear my lord, if you, in your own proof, have vanquish'd the resistance of her youth, and made defeat of her virginity,--”

“I know what you would say: if I have known her, you will say she did embrace me as a husband, and so extenuate the 'forehand sin: No, Leonato, I never tempted her with word too large; but, as a brother to his sister, show'd bashful sincerity and comely love.”

“And seem'd I ever otherwise to you?” pleaded Hero as Beatrice came to her side, trying to protect her.

“Out on thee!” Claudio exploded. “Seeming! I will write against it: you seem to me as Dian in her orb, as chaste as is the bud ere it be blown; but you are more intemperate in your blood than Venus, or those pamper'd animals that rage in savage sensuality.”

Hero shook her head. “Is my lord well, that he doth speak so wide?”

Olivio shook his head and spoke, the words numbed by the shock of the events. “The daughter of a gentlemen such as my brother hath no place to question the speech of a man, that it is perhaps just as well that Claudio said no now and not find out later that Hero is bestowed with even less virtuous talents.”

Elena, horrified that her husband would believe such words for even a moment, exploded with rage as she joined Beatrice at Hero's side. “Hold thy tongue; this is not thine daughter to trample on so freely as thou dost thine own!”

None could recall her speaking out against her husband and calling him in the wrong. Pleading with him to relent, yes; but outright defying him was unheard of.

Leonato looked at Don Pedro, hoping to some sanity to come from his honored guest. “Sweet Prince, why speak you not?”

Don Pedro was grim and tight with his speech. “What should I speak? I stand dishonour'd, that have gone about to link my dear friend to a common stale.”

The assembly gasped in horror.

Leonato looked at his brother. “Are these things spoken, or do I but dream?”

Don John saw his opening and stood. “Sir, they are spoken, and these things are true.”

“True!” breathed Hero, not understanding what she heard but sensing that things were going horribly wrong. “O God!”

“Leonato, Olivio, stand I here?” Claudio asked. “Is this the prince? Is this the prince's brother? Is this face Hero's? Are our eyes our own?”

“All this is so: but what of this, my lord?” Leonato said.

“Let me but move one question to your daughter; and, by that fatherly and kindly power that you have in her, bid her answer truly.”

Leonato's upbringing made him see only one answer to that request. “I charge thee do so, as thou art my child.”

Hero looked around, seeing the disbelief and yet unable to disobey her father. “O, God defend me! how am I beset! What kind of catechising call you this?”

Claudio was unmoved. “To make you answer truly to your name.”

“Is it not Hero? Who can blot that name with any just reproach?

“Marry, that can Hero; Hero itself can blot out Hero's virtue. What man was he talk'd with you yesternight in the open air betwixt twelve and one? Now, if you are a maid, answer to this.”

“I talk'd with no man at that hour, my lord,” she exclaimed.

Don Pedro shook his head and interrupted anything else she had to say. “Why, then are you no maiden. Leonato, I am sorry you must hear: upon mine honour, myself, my brother and this grieved count did see her, hear her, at that hour last night talk with a ruffian in the open air who hath indeed, most like a liberal villain, confess'd the vile encounters they have had a thousand times in secret.”

Don John interjected, as much to keep things simple as to avoid specifics that could be challenged. “Fie, fie! they are not to be named, my lord, not to be spoke of; there is not chastity enough in language without offence to utter them. Thus, pretty lady, I am sorry for thy much misgovernment.”

“Misgovernment?!” cried Beatrice, refusing to remain silent and ignoring her father's motions. She spoke too quickly to be stopped. “A proper saying from a bastard known for mischief! Often hath my cousin's brother, Pietro of Venice, spoken of the caution many in the army regard thee with; enough that thy words are little more than foul breath! 'Talked with a man in the open air'?! The grossest falsehood ever spoken of my cousin; never once last night was she alone, and for sure not with a man! Call me the only witness and thou still speakest untrue, for myself, my mother, and my aunt were all with Hero the entirety of the night; and last night was I Hero's bedfellow! As I have been since we were but babes-in-arms!”

Claudio's emotions were too heightened, his honor too impugned to allow this to go unchallenged. “Thy words are of a harridan; a shrew who abuses men of honour.”

“My daughter speakest not lies!” cried Elena. “Husband, hath I ever spoken an untruth? Hath Beatrice? Brother, hath Innogen? Or Hero?!”

From her chair, Innogen raised her voice to be heard. “Not once did I leave our daughter alone where she could be importuned; the only vile man stole a possession of hers, and after that did we all depart for home!”

Neither Leonato nor Olivio, each standing numbly, spoke.

The shock of neither man being able to speak allowed Claudio to speak further. “Oh Hero, what a Hero hadst thou been, if half thy outward graces had been placed about thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart! But fare thee well, most foul, most fair! Farewell, thou pure impiety and impious purity! For thee I'll lock up all the gates of love, and on my eyelids shall conjecture hang, to turn all beauty into thoughts of harm, and never shall it more be gracious.”

Leonato finally spoke. “Hath no man's dagger here a point for me?”

Hero could not bear the thought that her own father would not defend her and her mother, and swooned.

Beatrice, Elena and Innogen all flew to her side, the former crying, “Why, how now, cousin! Wherefore sink you down?”

“Come, let us go,” said Don John. “These things, come thus to light, smother her spirits up.”

The Prince led the trio out, and others in the assembly left. Word of what happened was sure to spread rapidly.

Innogen looked to each man in her life with dismay, the horror of their refusal to act sinking her more deeply into disbelief. She saw that Elena shared in the state completely.

Beatrice looked upward to the only male who looked on Hero with any empathy. “Help, Friar!” And he knelt to check on Hero.

Leonato slowly picked up the bouquet Hero had been carrying. “O Fate! take not away thy heavy hand.  
Death is the fairest cover for her shame that may be wish'd for,” he snapped, tossing it at his daughter's body before walking away, Olivio following.

That act was enough to revive Hero. Elena and Innogen cried in relief.

“How now, cousin Hero!” breathed Beatrice.

Friar Francis aided Hero to a seated position. “Have comfort, lady.”

Leonato turned on his heel. “Dost thou look up?”

“Yea, wherefore should she not?” asked the Friar.

Leonato railed at his child, the Friar taking some of the venom by proximity. “Wherefore! Why, doth not every earthly thing cry shame upon her? Could she here deny the story that is printed in her blood?”

He reached to strangle Hero, but Elena threw herself in the way. Olivio acted on instinct, pulling Leonato away.

“Do not live, Hero; do not open thine eyes: for, did I think thou wouldst not quickly die, thought I thy spirits were stronger than thy shames, myself would, on the rearward of reproaches, strike at thy life!”

He tried again, but this time Innogen added herself into the midst. Three women stood between him and Hero, and Friar Francis raised his hand to urge caution.

His anger went in waves from then on. “Grieved I, I had but one? Chid I for that at frugal nature's frame? O, one too much by thee! Why had I one?” He kicked a chair, breathing a while before continuing his fury. “Why ever wast thou lovely in my eyes? Why had I not with charitable hand took up a beggar's issue at my gates, who smirch'd thus and mired with infamy, I might have said 'No part of it is mine; this shame derives itself from unknown loins'? But mine and mine I loved and mine I praised and mine that I was proud on, mine so much that I myself was to myself not mine, valuing of her,-- why, she, O, she is fallen into a pit of ink, that the wide sea hath drops too few to wash her clean again  
and salt too little which may season give to her foul-tainted flesh!”

Hero cried into her mother's arms.

Beatrice, the most accustomed to speaking out, had to protest again. “O, on my soul, my cousin is belied! And us with her! For I spoke the truth!”

Olivio shook his head. “Would the two princes lie, and Claudio lie, who loved her so, that, speaking of her foulness, wash'd it with tears?”

Leonato burst to standing. “Hence from her! Let her die!”

Friar Francis grabbed him, holding him back. “Hear me a little; for I have only been silent so long  
and given way unto this course of fortune. By noting of the lady I have mark'd a thousand blushing apparitions to start into her face, a thousand innocent shames in angel whiteness beat away those blushes; and in her eye there hath appear'd a fire, to burn the errors that these princes hold against her maiden truth. Call me a fool; trust not my reading nor my observations, which with experimental seal doth warrant the tenor of my book; trust not my age, my reverence, calling, nor divinity, if this sweet lady lie not guiltless here under some biting error.”

Leonato shook his head. “Friar, it cannot be. Thou seest that all the grace that she hath left is that she will not add to her damnation a sin of perjury; she not denies it: why seek'st thou then to cover with excuse that which appears in proper nakedness? And bring her other relations with her?!”

Friar Francis stood and approached Hero. “Lady, what man is he you are accused of?”

Hero's eyes indeed shined with fire. “They know that do accuse me; I know none.” She went to her father, who withdrew his hands, making her fall to her knees. But she held herself up strong. “If I know more of any man alive than that which maiden modesty doth warrant, let all my sins lack mercy! O my father, prove you that any man with me conversed at hours unmeet, or that I yesternight maintain'd the change of words with any creature other than mine own family, refuse me, hate me, torture me to death!'

Friar Francis frowned. “There is some strange misprision in the princes; I cannot fathom what would make them also go against the word of three other ladies whose honour is known for honesty.”

Leonato at last spoke. “I know not. If they speak but truth of her, these hands shall tear her,” he vowed, reaching for her.

Innogen flew to grab his hands despite her dress and heels. She pleaded with him, pushing her face between his and Hero's.

But to everyone's surprise, even Olivio's, Leonato's hand didn't do more than touch Hero's face. The look in her eyes touched his heart. “If they wrong her honour, the proudest of them shall well hear of it.  
Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine, nor age so eat up my invention, nor fortune made such havoc of my means, nor my bad life reft me so much of friends, but they shall find, awaked in such a kind, both strength of limb and policy of mind, ability in means and choice of friends, to quit me of them throughly.”

Friar Francis held up his hands. “Pause awhile, and let my counsel sway you in this case.” He checked to see that no one was listening outside. Satisfied, he returned to their side. “Your daughter here the princes left for dead: let her awhile be secretly kept in, and publish it that she is dead indeed; maintain a mourning ostentation and on your family's old hang mournful epitaphs and do all rites that appertain unto a burial.”

“What shall become of this? What will this do?” asked Leonato, pulling his tie loose.

The Friar composed himself an instant more to present his argument in the best and most convincing light. “Marry, this well carried shall on her and her relations' behalf change slander to remorse; that is some good: but not for that dream I on this strange course, but on this travail look for greater birth.  
She dying, as it must so be maintain'd, upon the instant that she was accused, shall be lamented, pitied and excused of every hearer: for it so falls out that what we have we prize not to the worth whilst we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost, why, then we rack the value, then we find the virtue that possession would not show us whilst it was ours. So will it fare with Claudio: when he shall hear she died upon his words, the idea of her life shall sweetly creep into his study of imagination, and every lovely organ of her life shall come apparell'd in more precious habit, more moving-delicate and full of life, into the eye and prospect of his soul, than when she lived indeed; then shall he mourn, if ever love had interest in his liver, and wish he had not so accused her, no, though he thought his accusation true.

“Let this be so, and doubt not but success will fashion the event in better shape than I can lay it down in likelihood. But if all aim but this be levell'd false, the supposition of the lady's death will quench the wonder of her infamy: and if it sort not well, you may conceal her, as best befits her wounded reputation, in some reclusive and religious life, out of all eyes, tongues, minds and injuries.”

“It protects Hero, perhaps; but what of our own honours?” demanded Elena. “We have been dishonoured nearly as much as she. Must we all retreat with her because a man believed a snake's word?”

Friar Francis thought quickly. “The most each hath been accus'd is with lying to protect Hero; a mourning state would require all of thee to remain within according to rites, and so the time should ensure that when Claudio repents his accusation then none shall speak against any of thee. On the one hand, I being a man and knowledgeable of the law, am full aware that a woman's word cannot be taken as honest when it is contrary to that of a man's testimony which would under any other circumstance require I side with the law. On the other hand, I being first a man of God must side with God and impart the natural law, that woman should be protected and have God judge whether the dead are innocent: that to judge would be to cast the first stone, which is contrary to God's law. That in Hero's death from shock she hath gain'd innocence from the justice of men and is surrender'd to the justice of God, which is pure and unbiased. Men, even those who profess to be the mouthpiece of God, must accept Heaven's justice. Thus, with her death, Hero is judged innocent and God has saved her to himself away from the hurts of man; as such innocence would extend to the family who spoke in her defence, for they would be recognised as seeing God's truth of Hero.”

None of the ladies liked it, but none could find anything else to suggest.

Leonato looked at Olivio, who had no better idea and shook his head. So the Governor merely said, choking on his emotions as he walked out with his brother trailing him in just as bad a state, “Being that I flow in grief, the smallest twine may lead me.”

Sighing, the Friar turned to the ladies. “'Tis well consented: presently away; for to strange sores strangely they strain the cure. Come, lady, die to live: this wedding-day perhaps is but prolong'd: have patience and endure,” he urged Hero.

Beatrice choked on a cry. “Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her!”

“And how might a man right her now?” Innogen asked. “Her own father cannot; better to say he would not when he ought to have.”

“By killing Claudio.”

Hero gasped. “Is Claudio my enemy?”

The disbelieving Beatrice burst with anger. “Is he not approved in the height a villain, that hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman? O that I were a man! What, bear you in hand until you come to take hands; and then, with public accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour – O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place!”

“Cousin-”

“Sweet Hero! She is wronged, Friar; she is slandered, she is undone!”

“Good lady, I beg patience of thee.”

“What good doth patience do for ourselves? Princes and counties! Surely, a princely testimony, a goodly count, Count Comfect; a sweet gallant, surely! O that I were a man for his sake! Or that I  
had any friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted into courtesies, valour into  
compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules  
that only tells a lie and swears it. I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.”

“If there is a man who will speak for thee then thyself, thy mother, and thy aunt may be restored to everything at once. Perhaps he can ensure Hero might be brought into the light again.”

“But there is such a man,” Elena said flatly. “Alas, it is the same man my husband sent away; Senor Benedick would defend Hero as he is our witness that we were with her, but I fear that my husband's distrust of him of a suitor – and all due to his rank! – would not permit such a defence!”

“If he is of the honour I think, and if he would do anything for me out of love, then he would kill Claudio. This I think as sure I have a thought or a soul!” Beatrice cried.

Friar Francis knew not what words he could offer that would be accepted.

[Chapter Eight: Going to War For a Lady's Honour](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/128456.html)


	8. Going to War For a Lady's Honour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[sykira](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

**Title** : Assumptions Burst  
**Genre** : MAAN  
**Rating** : T  
**Author** : tkel_paris  
**Summary** : The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.  
**Disclaimer** : Don't own anything Shakespearean. Also don't have anything to do with the Josie Roarke production that I adore so much. If I could make money off these...  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/) , whose praise has inspired me to try writing even more MAAN fanfics. This is your fault, lovely. ;) Also dedicated to [](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/profile)[**inward_audacity**](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/) , whose comments were the basis for this idea. And thanks to [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[**tardis_mole**](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/) for betaing.  
**Author's Note** : Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

This was supposed to be a “just because” present, but given how long it's taken me it's turn also into a Christmas present. Enjoy and have a Happy Holiday season!

 

[Chapter One](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124507.html) / [Chapter Two](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124771.html) / [Chapter Three](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/125941.html) / [Chapter Four](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126668.html) / [Chapter Five](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126972.html) / [Chapter Six](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127481.html) / [Chapter Seven](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127883.html)

 

**Assumptions Burst**

**Started September 2, 2015  
Finished December 23-25, 2015**

**Chapter Eight: Going to War For a Lady's Honour**

Benedick and Pietro were each pacing in the area outside their shared quarters, neither wishing to look at the clock. The former finally spoke after a long silence. “Surely by now Hero is Claudio's Countess. What shall you do if ever called back to Messina?”

Pietro swallowed hard but answered promptly. “Keep my distance, but look out for whatever I can do to ensure her comfort. What more can a man of honour do? What about thee? How shall you find a moment to speak with the Lady Beatrice?”

“With great difficulty, as her father has demanded my absence from the wedding and the celebrations. I must wait for night to find a moment to approach without hurting her honour. It may be my last chance, and mayhap I could only explain mine actions.”

“And if she seems pressed to the state of thinking of doing an outrage to herself over her father's wishes?”

Benedick paled. “Then I may have to accept her old wish and take her with me, for her life and happiness is more precious than her honour; what good is the latter when you lack both of the former? Although how to do so when her father must surely have a tight watch set upon his house and lands?”

They heard footfalls and stilled. “That sounds like the Messenger. What news could he have?” speculated Pietro.

The Messenger entered, pale and drawn.

Benedick frowned and stood, and his friend followed suit as he spoke. “My good man, you look not like you came from a nuptial.”

The man was shaking. “My lords, I know not what to think. Never did I think I would witness such.”

“Speak plainly!” Benedick commanded.

He shook to get command of himself. “Lady Hero... was accused of being a common stale.”

“What?!” Pietro exploded. “Hero?! Impossible! No lady could be more with honour and virtue!”

Benedick could find only slight fault with his friend's words, but decided not to say so. “I agree that any who say so would wrong her.”

“Sirs, she was accused by Claudio!”

Both men stilled.

Benedick was first to find his voice. “Claudio? How could he say so of the woman he went mad over?”

“Claudio seemed unnaturally grave before the lady and her father came before the Friar, and so did the Prince. After some words I did not make sense of, Claudio tossed Hero back to her father, made the accusation that he saw her with another man; an accusation supported by the Prince and Don John.”

“Don John?” Pietro growled, more because he felt able to direct anger toward that man, although the Messenger stepped back nonetheless from its force. “Count Snake himself?! My good man, you must know his word is as stable as the coastline of Venice!”

“The Prince?!” Benedick breathed. “How can this be? He swore not two days ago that Hero is worthy!”

“All I know is that the accusation reached a point where Hero swooned, and later I heard that the ladies of her family were seen carrying her body out of the church. Given how the Ladies Innogen and Elena were crying and the Lady Beatrice shouted about 'O that I were a man!' I think Hero is dead.”

Pietro fell backwards, and only avoided hurting himself thanks to a large chair being in his way. Even then it merely halted his fall but a second before he sank to the floor.

Benedick was stock still. “Dead? O God! Is it certain? Do the Prince and Claudio know?”

“I know not; orders I was carrying out when I saw part of the events myself, seen after I went to discharge my duty.”

“And did none defend the lady?”

“Her cousin, mother and aunt all swore they were with her and that she was elsewhere, but the Prince and Claudio refused to hear them.”

“And did not Leonato and Olivio defend their word, their honour in speaking so?”

“No.”

That silenced Benedick more than anything could have. “None? A father would not defend his daughter's words when he must know her character?”

The Messenger shook his head. “My lords, the Prince has commanded that we must pack and leave soon. There is nothing keeping any of us here, he said. I beg leave of you whilst I inform the rest of the camp.”

Benedick waved him off silently, aimlessly. The Messenger bowed and left.

Pietro choked. “I cannot believe it. A thousand lashes could not cause the pain my heart feels. O sweet, noble Hero! A jewel among women is lost forever because of one man's foolish belief in another's words!”

“Peace, Pietro!” Benedick snapped, his face growing graver by the second. “You may yet act on her behalf.”

“What right have I?”

“Support me in my next action.”

“And what can thee do?”

Benedick was firm and unyielding, full of conviction. “I will challenge Claudio.”

Pietro at first did not hear, but once the words connected in his ears he raised his head and stared in awe. “When Olivio will not permit thee to court Beatrice?”

“No one else will even think to do't. I shall do what is right to make Claudio and the Prince see that they were in the wrong, even if it means I must kill Claudio.” He went to his writing desk and had pen and paper out quickly.

“My lord, you would turn on a man you called a friend in spite of his dispute with myself?”

“He cannot be my friend if he is so lost to observation as to know not Hero's character; he hath proved himself a fool worse than I had feared he would make of himself. Too easily is he led by his sense of what honour is, too easily led by a superior in rank. He and the others shall learn the price, and feel the burden of killing Hero as surely as if he had done so with his sword.”

He paused a moment, as a thought entered his mind and wrenched a quiet hitch of his breath. “O Beatrice. She must be in a most wretched hour now. And her mother and aunt, but mostly Beatrice. They more than cousins. They were like sisters, Pietro. Not even night has ever parted them. They slept in the same bed as children, shared all of nature’s changes into womanhood. They held each other’s dreams and secrets. And now the lady Beatrice is bereft of her right hand, as real as if a man had ax’d it from her arm.” He sobbed softly, but then his countenance turned bitter. “And such a man hath done it, with his tongue and sundered her honour no less than he hath sundered Hero’s life. O God, I cannot stand by with such thought in my head and heart and do nothing when I have but breath in me to put it right! My love, my Beatrice needs a man. And in the hour she stood alone, I am come to her aid! I will be that man, and care I not that her father denied me that right!”

Pietro stood. “But what about thy duty to the Prince? Will this not place thee in danger with him?”

“No; for I shall discontinue his company. I cannot in good conscience stand beside a false truth and follow the tongue from which it came.”

The young Duke's eyes had never been so large as to compete with the dinner plates. “Thou art in the most profound earnestness of thy life. My lord, you shall shame them all! Leonato, Olivio, Claudio, the Prince; none shall have the honour that is thine after today. Shamed am I that I did not think of acting to avenge the wrong to the ladies; and in that do you prove to be my superior still.”

That gave the older man pause. Benedick stood, halting his writing as he could not forget this moment. “My good friend, I cannot command any soldier of mine to follow me in this. If thou or anyone else wishes to remain in the Prince's service, you shall go with my best wishes in war and life.”

Pietro was appalled and stepped directly into his commander's way. “Dost thou think so poorly of our loyalty? Think us capable of leaving the only man with the purest honour in the kingdom for the service of one who has tarnished his own? Nay, Benedick; where thou goest, we shall follow even to Hell and back. I do not need to ask the men this, for their answers shall be the same. Claudio's men cannot feel the bonds we do as thou hath bleed with us where the Count has not and would not. Feats of a lion he did, but not to the extent that you would if given half the chance. O God! You and I might be brothers, but why, why did you allow me to stop you leaving when I could have wrung his neck when you had the chance?!”

“Because thou spokest in reason; to make myself known would have been a problem, and more so with thy at my side. We had no knowledge that silence was not the best course.”

Pietro shook himself back into the present. “So cease this talk of my or any in thine service leaving thy company; what shall I tell the men?”

Benedick found a small smile and clasped his hand between his. “Thy loyalty shall be my strength, whatever comes. Inform my men that they are to ignore any orders to prepare for a departure; say that they are to state they will not act without my command, as they are to answer directly to me. The Prince shall have nothing to say to that once I have spoken with him. Now, come! We shall dress in the garments we would have worn to this terrible nuptial had it ta'en place. Thou shalt stand at my side when I challenge Claudio.”

Pietro snapped a salute and hurried to his room. Which allowed Benedick to hurry through with his writing; straight and to the point, it was done quickly so he could dress for the verbal battle of his life.

Perhaps more than one.

[Chapter Nine: Friend Against Friend](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/128923.html)


	9. Friend Against Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[sykira](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

**Title** : Assumptions Burst  
**Genre** : MAAN  
**Rating** : T  
**Author** : [](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/profile)[**tkel_paris**](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/)  
**Summary** : The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.  
**Disclaimer** : Don't own anything Shakespearean. Also don't have anything to do with the Josie Roarke production that I adore so much. If I could make money off these...  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/) , whose praise has inspired me to try writing even more MAAN fanfics. This is your fault, lovely. ;) Also dedicated to [](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/profile)[**inward_audacity**](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/) , whose comments were the basis for this idea. And thanks to [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[**tardis_mole**](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/) for betaing.  
**Author's Note** : Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

This was supposed to be a “just because” present, but given how long it's taken me it's turn also into a Christmas present. Enjoy and have a Happy Holiday season!

 

[Chapter One](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124507.html) / [Chapter Two](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124771.html) / [Chapter Three](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/125941.html) / [Chapter Four](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126668.html) / [Chapter Five](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126972.html) / [Chapter Six](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127481.html) / [Chapter Seven](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127883.html) / [Chapter Eight](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/128456.html)

 

**Assumptions Burst**

**Started September 2, 2015  
Finished December 23-25, 2015**

**Chapter Nine: Friend Against Friend**

Elena and Innogen entered from the side of the room, having changed into mourning attire. Veils covered their faces, and each had their arms folded as though they were chilled. Each pursed their lips as they watched Leonato drink glass after glass of champange. Olivio was not far off. They had left their girls sitting together to dress in black, and to avoid speaking with either man who controlled their lives.

Olivio still held himself back from the depths of grief. He disliked the effects of too much drinking, and aimed to remind Leonato of that. “If you go on thus, you will kill yourself. 'Tis not wisdom to second grief against yourself.”

Leonato's words in rejecting the advice were long, full of self-pity and grief. He was consuming himself in grief.

Innogen could finally take no more and let them know they were present. “Therein do men from children nothing differ.”

“Sister, I bid thee caution in thy words,” Olivio warned her sharply.

“Yet bend all the harm upon himself? Make those that do offend thee suffer too, husband!” she insisted, as she shoved the front of the veil over her head. Elena followed suit.

Leonato stood, putting his glass aside. “There thou speak'st reason: nay, I will do so. My soul doth tell me Hero is belied; And that shall Claudio know; so shall the prince And all of them that thus dishonour her.”

As though summoned by the words the Prince and Claudio walked by, slowing as they realized who was near. “Good den, good den,” the Prince said, gentle yet firm.

“Good day to all of you,” Claudio said, cool yet mannerly.

The good manners were enough to set Leonato off in his state. “Hear me, my lords-”

“We have some haste, Leonato,” declared the Prince, refusing to take his hand.

“Some haste, my lord! Well, fare you well, my lord. Are you so hasty now? Well, all is one.”

“Nay, do not quarrel with us, old man.”

Elena had to speak, her voice colder than anyone had ever heard it. Even Olivio when she threatened to sleep in her own room and then, in the same breath, hinted of leaving him. “If he could right himself with quarreling, some of us would lie low.”

“Who wrongs him?” asked Claudio.

Leonatos answer was instant. “Marry, thou dost wrong me, thou dessembler- Nay, never lay thy hand upon thy sword I fear thee not,” he added when Claudio's hand did so without his awareness.

The Count did not need the Prince's gesture of caution or the stiffening of the women to know he was wrong, and raised both hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Marry, beshrew my hand, if it should give your age such cause of fear: in faith, my hand meant nothing to my sword.”

“Tush, tush, man; never fleer and jest at me,” Leonato snapped, chasing Claudio through the chairs. Olivio made it difficult for Claudio to hide. “I speak not like a dotard nor a fool, as under privilege of age to brag what I have done being young, or what I would do were I not old. Know, Claudio, to thy head, thou hast so wrong'd mine innocent child and me that I am forced to lay my reverence by and, with grey hairs and bruise of many days, do challenge thee to trial of a man. I say...”

Olivio touched his arm, reminding him that he had to be careful.

Leonato got the message “... thou hast belied mine innocent child; thy slander hath gone through and through her heart, and she lies buried with her ancestors; oh, in a tomb where never scandal slept, save this of hers, framed by thy villany!”

Don Pedro and Claudio were stunned. Dead upon their words?! Although Claudio could not be completely silent. “My villainy?!”

“Thine, Claudio; thine, I say,” declared Leonato.

“You speak not right, old man,” said the Prince.

“My lord, my lord, I'll prove it on his body, if he dare,” Leonato said, shoving Claudio.

Ckaudio fled toward the Prince. “Away! I will not have to do with you.”

“Canst thou do daff me?! Thou hast killed my child; if thou killst me, boy, thou shall kill a man!”

“Peace, Leonato!” cried the Prince.

Innogen, having grabbed a glass full of champange to keep her hands busy, had enough. “Let him answer me!” She stepped forward and threw the liquid onto Claudio, who squawked from the shock of a woman challenging him. He walked a little away, but was followed. “Come, follow me, boy; come, sir boy, come, follow me: Sir boy, I'll whip you from your foiling fence!”

Leonato was stunned. “Wife--”

“Content yourself!” she cried. “God knows I loved my daughter; and she is dead, slander'd to death by villains, that dare as well answer a man indeed as I dare take a serpent by the tongue: boys, apes, braggarts, Jacks, milksops!”

“Sister Innogen--” Olivio tried to interrupt, but she was too full of anger to speak, and the men's shock was too much to interfere much.

“Hold you content. What, man! I know them, yea, and what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple – scrambling, out-facing, fashion-monging boys, that lie and cog and flout, deprave and slander, go anticly, show outward hideousness, and speak off half a dozen dangerous words, how they might hurt their enemies, if they durst; and this is all.”

Olivio could not be silent any longer. “Come, 'tis no matter: do not you meddle, sister Innogen; let me deal in this.”

“Good sirs, madams, we will not wake your patience,” declared the Prince. “My heart is sorry for your Hero's death: but, on my honour, she was charged with nothing but what was true and very full of proof.”

“My lord, my lord,” began Olivio, unaware that their dispute had witnesses. Benedick and Pietro stepped slowly into the area, tall and with the fullest military precision.

“I will not hear you,” snapped the Prince.

“No? We will be heard,” Olivio declared. “Thou hast been decreed the finest future King the land could have, and what doth thou do? Permit thyself to be led by others when thine own judgment is required. Hath thou not spoken of how much care thy brother by thy father's being a man hast required of thee? Hath thou not spoken of how mine daughter speaks only the truth when she speaks no mirth; and even when she doth speak mirth there is always truth to it? How canst thou disregard her words entirely, her oath that my niece was never left alone with any man? She is a lady you swore that you respected and thou threw her oaths away like the waste of dinner to a beggar.”

Elena's face darkened over her husband's words. She looked at Innogen and whispered, “Accuse he the Prince of doing exactly what he himself had done twice this day; first when he forbade her to marry Benedick and then when he would not support her defence of Hero?”

Olivio still overheard, and lost all ability to continue in that vein. No one else overheard.

Elena then noticed the entrance of the two men and decided to break the tension slightly. “Good day, Senor Benedick, Duke Pietro.”

“Good day, Lady Elena, Lady Innogen, my lords.” Benedick disliked that the address permitted Claudio to think he was being referred to, but he had no interest in singling out either Leonato or Olivio. Pietro merely bowed slightly, aiming it at the ladies as Benedick was to speak for them both.

“Welcome, senor and Duke Pietro: you are almost come to part almost a fray,” Don Pedro said, considerable relief in his voice.

Benedick was not going to let this continue. “In a false quarrel there is no true valour. I came to seek you both, and my right hand follows where I go.”

Claudio stepped toward them, and away from the ladies who made him uneasy. “We have been up and down to seek thee and thy gutter-snipe spawned man; for we are high-proof melancholy and would fain have it beaten away. Wilt thou use thy wit?”

“It is in my scabbard: shall I draw it?” Benedick said, taking a page from Pietro's book and ignoring everything else.

The whole room was taken aback. The words sounded like a man quick to pass anger and willing to greet violence.

Don Pedro knew better than any that was not Benedick's nature. “Dost thou wear thy wit by thy side?”

Claudio also knew Benedick was slow to anger, although his nature encouraged him to make a joke of it. “As I am an honest man, he looks pale. Art thou sick, or angry?”

“Sir, I shall meet your wit in the career, and you charge it against me. I pray you choose another subject,” Benedick snapped, not liking how far his friend had fallen and not willing to be engaged in any foolish wit match.

Elena's eyes widened and her hand went over her heart as hope flared within. Could he possibly have come in answer to Hero's death, to defend them all?

“By this light, he changes more and more: I think he be angry indeed,” remarked Claudio in full amusement.

Benedick shared a grim look with Pietro, then raised his right hand in a firm command and looked right at Claudio. “Shall I speak a word in your ear?”

The sharpness told them that Benedick meant business. The ladies' eyes brightened as they realized he was looking to avenge the wrong done. The men were merely confused.

Claudio looked to the Prince, who nodded. Then he walked to Benedick's side, which was within earshot of all of the room even though he stepped away from Pietro to keep the two apart. “God bless me from a challenge!”

Benedick saw no need to speak in an aside. “You are a villain. I jest not,” he added when Claudio laughed.

The room went silent.

“I will make it good how you dare, with what you dare, and when you dare. Do me right, or I will  
protest your cowardice. You have killed a sweet lady, and her death shall fall heavy on you. To make matters worse, you have also wronged three honourable women by slandering their reputations as honest ladies. Let me hear from you.” He moved away from Claudio.

Who, in disbelief, did not let him get far. “Well, I will meet you, so I may have good cheer.”

“Sir, your wit ambles well; it goes easily,” Benedick mocked, his voice deadly. He was pleased that Claudio stepped back from both the force of the words and his stepping closer.

The Prince could not make a joke. Instead he looked to Benedick. “What means thee, Benedick? When hath Claudio acted truly in the wrong?”

Claudio took comfort in his lord's defense. “Yea, perhaps thou meant a feast with thy man as thy fool?”

“Fare you well, boy: you know my mind,” Benedick interrupted. “I will leave you now to your gossip-like humour: you break jests as braggarts do their blades, which God be thanked, hurt not. My lord, for your many courtesies I thank you: I must discontinue your company, and my men follow me.”

Don Pedro was not the only one shocked by Benedick handing him a letter. The complete earnestness in his face spoke to his speaking the truth. So the Prince numbly took the letter.

Once it was taken, Benedick continued his campaign. “Your brother the bastard is fled from Messina: you have among you killed a sweet and innocent lady. For my Lord Lackbeard there, he and I shall meet: and, till then, peace be with him.”

Olivio did not miss that Benedick's voice clearly said that Claudio did not deserve the title, and so he had to speak. “Upon what right doth thee act on my family's behalf?”

“I act as a man who knows the characters of both the Lady Hero and the Lady Beatrice by observation well. Nay, I know the Lady Hero is innocent of such accusations. Did not the Ladies protest Hero's innocence and offer proof?”

“How canst thou be certain?” snapped Claudio.

“The ladies did,” acknowledged Don Pedro, keeping Claudio in line by speaking. “The Lady Beatrice claimed to be with her the whole time, and so did their mothers.”

“And they speak the truth, for I was in the company of both the Lady Hero and the Lady Beatrice, who were with their mothers. She was never alone for an instant, let alone unmeet with a man! Any who would dare claim that she is disloyal knows her not and hath never been attentive to her character.”

All went silent, staring at Benedick who stared everyone down.

Pietro could not be silent any longer. “My lords and ladies, I must add my own knowledge to the innocence of the Lady Hero, for I was in mine room reading a letter from home when I heard my lord Benedick escorting the ladies to Leonato's. I saw the ladies enter at precisely two last night. When, my lords, was this disgraceful act to have ta'en place?”

Don Pedro went pale. “Not three minutes before.”

“Then it is impossible for the woman thou saw to be the Governor's daughter and the Viscount's niece,” Benedick proclaimed.

No one was more silent than Leonato, who also was so pale that he looked like he ought to be falling down on his rear from the lack of blood in his head. Olivio was not far behind.

Don Pedro and Claudio were the next most silent, but they were the stillest. To accuse Benedick of not telling the truth would be to challenge the honor of a man they both knew was the definition of it, and foolhardy because he was the better fighter. And to outright accuse the Doge of Venice's youngest of lying would invite a war that the kingdom could ill afford.

Benedick stared all the men down. “By impugning the Ladies' honours and dismissing their truth, you have also called me a liar and impugned mine own honour; there was no scoundrel as I was with them at the time declared. Unless you wish to accuse me of being the scoundrel?”

The Prince had never felt so weak or such loss of blood without an injury. He shook his head wordlessly to indicate he would never accuse Benedick so.

And Pietro's face lit with a grim smile. “My father, the Doge, is yet ignorant of this day's dreadful events; but I assure thee that if it is war with Venice that Florence wishes for he will be happy to oblige given the dishonour against the best friend of his youngest. Shall it be an all-out war or a mere gentlemen's duel?”

Leonato paled further. The Duke had said nothing against Messina, but the merchants' fears suddenly seemed far too likely. Olivio's actions could hardly be hidden in such a situation, and the Viscount's equally pale face proved he knew it.

Benedick had to add one final note. “And in case any think my father would not take advantage of such a moment, know this, Claudio: I know that thy father spoke words against Pietro's mother that cost the Doge money and reputation, and he never forgot. Thy father and mine were also at odds, and it was a lie traced to Florence that led to Pietro's arrest at my father's command. Do not protest, for I found the proof! Our fathers have quietly spoken over these fifteen years, and whilst he hath not yet come to peace with the friendship between myself and Pietro he would not ignore a dishonour against myself. This would be exactly the situation to create a formal truce between Padua and Venice, and perhaps an outright alliance against Florence.”

Claudio's body sank into a chair. He knew his lands stood no chance against the combined might of Padua's land soldiers and Venice's second-to-none sailors.

“How certain are you?” Don Pedro breathed aloud, desperate to avoid a war.

“As certain as as my mother carried me and brought me forth into the world. As certain I am that the sun springs anew at the end of the night. As certain I am that you have been beguiled by a snake that would test your character and pit it against the honour of a woman and call you a fool,” Benedick coolly declared, eyes flaming brighter than the mid-day sun that shone overhead. “The Ladies' honourable mothers were there, and saw their daughters away from the place where I know you mean the incident occurred, and I saw them all enter Leonato's house – far away from the place where you say you witnessed her with a man not Claudio. Now I demand to know what is your authority for saying that you saw Hero, for you insult four honourable ladies, and myself and the Duke with!”

Leonato found his voice. “Prince, Claudio, how can the pair of you declare one thing when two men known to speak nothing but the truth doth declare another?”

“We did not see any of the other three ladies, nor Benedick,” confessed Don Pedro, suddenly wondering now if his eyes had deceived him or that he had seen double through the effects of drink, or that a snake had indeed bitten off his buttock. “We went on the word of my brother, who challenged me with the consequences if I was wrong. We saw one woman and a man, acting in a lewd manner, and heard the man call the lady 'Hero'.”

Benedick scowled. “Better did I think of both of thee, Prince. I have bled with each of thee and been as sure of your honours as of mine own. How could thou take the word of one who you both must know in your souls could not be trusted to tell the truth? Why did thou not insist upon getting more men whose wits were not dulled by drinking? When war would suit the wishes of Don Grouch?”

The nickname was known to the Prince, who flinched as he saw the truth of the words from yesternight.

Pietro added one last detail. “Benedick and I hath managed to stay our respective fathers' hands from declaring war many a time before, for far longer than any would credit. A true answer of repentance shall be required to ensure war doth not burst upon the lands.”

Don Pedro rubbed his face harshly while Claudio sat stock still. At length the Prince finally found any words to say, and could only speak to Claudio. “Runs not this speech like iron through your blood?”

“I have drunk poison whilst he uttered it,” muttered Claudio, sinking deeper into his chair.

“He is composed and framed of treachery,” declared Don Pedro, self-directed fury bursting through. “And fled he is upon this villany!”

“Sweet Hero, now thy image doth appear in the rare semblance with I loved it first!” cried Claudio.

Pietro scowled at him. “Didst thou love the lady or her fortune?”

Claudio could not answer, as stricken as he was. Don Pedro looked away, remembering the questions about Leonato having a son.

Olivio turned to Leonato, eyes turning huge. “Brother,” he whispered. “Benedick was the only suitor who made no mention of Beatrice's fortunes; he made special mention of wishing to honour our family and traditions, and what mention of her fortunes was a wish to preserve them for their heirs.”

It was grudgingly spoken, yet extremely humbling in light of Claudio's actions. Claudio hid his face in shame.

Leonato turned to face the man whose actions would allow Hero to be restored before the public without requiring her be tied to someone so reckless with her honor. “Senor, I cannot thank thee enough for preserving my child's honour and good name. A reward must be granted to thee.”

Benedick shook his head. “Senor Leonato, I cannot accept a reward for doing what was right; any man of honour ought to protect those he knows to be innocent, and to accept would be wrong. There is no debt.”

The Governor was very uneasy. He knew he had acted wrongly, and needed to do something. “But mine honour cannot be satisfied if I do nothing to repay thee.”

“Any repayment would be a price too high, so I beg thee to let me alone with the honour of acting right.”

Elena stepped forward. “Brother, husband; a word, if you both please? Innogen, your presence would be an honour. Prince, Claudio, Benedick, and Pietro; I pray you wait for us.”

She had never sounded more like her daughter, which stunned the entire room. And none more than the men in question, who led her to the side. Innogen followed closely, as much to help ensure it remained private as to participate. The others remained where they were, either standing or sitting.

Once they were far enough off that low voices could not carry, Elena turned on both of the men who ruled her life. Her eyes burned with the fire her daughter so often showed, and she would not be silenced. Yet she made sure her pitch did not raise too loudly.

“Husband, what reason can you now give before God to deny Benedick of Padua our daughter's hand, as he and she hath always wished? Our House stands in debt to him and he still refuses the monies that most men would demand, which I believe stands him foremost in all the lands of the King and beyond in honour and valour – even about the Prince himself at the height of his accomplishments. You wished for a son who will hold Beatrice and your fortunes with care, protect thy family's traditions. Hath he not stated that he shall forego his father's to be your son? Hath he not prov'd superior to the Prince himself in his ability to see the truth? Our daughter refused the Prince's suit, and now I think her right; His Grace is too willing to stand by other men, which risks my child being given out! Not the Senor, nay; he would run himself through on his own sword than let any harm befall our daughter! All the glories and jewels of a Queen I would not take, for a husband who shall truly forsake all others and cleave onto his wife is worth the whole of the world. Did I not refuse dukes with greater fortunes, my brother, and with nearly equal cause? And my husband, how is seeking to force a match for the glory of the House that is entirely unsuitable to our child's character any better than the shame that Don Snake tricked his brother and the Count into placing on our niece?”

She let neither her brother nor her husband speak. Never had mother and daughter seemed more alike than in that moment. Gentleness and mildness had seemingly ruled Elena's ways, but danger to her child or niece drove her to unleash the martial anger that Beatrice freely showed at times.

Innogen felt compelled to add to her sister by marriage and heart's words. “Gladly did we accept the Prince wooing in Claudio's name, but doth a man who lets another woo for him show something wanting? Blinded was I by Hero's affection for the Count, but now I cannot abide by seeing her wed to a man who had so freely cast her aside on the word of a viper in his midst. A fashion-mongering boy is he; yea, not a man! O, the Prince is sunk in mine eyes! If a warrior Queen were desired then Beatrice would have ruled the world; but remain at home she must, and so must she have a husband who shall honour her as she is and her family with her. Jester as he may seem I hath never seen him be cruel where it was not warranted, and always fair to servants which many a great man is not. Brother, bend not any more pain upon Beatrice or her Senor, whose honour is now greater than even the Prince's!”

Olivio stood still. A statue had more signs of life than his body did. Leonato was not far off, leaning now on the wall, still faint to his knees.

After a long minute Olivio's breathing became noticeable and he turned to embrace his wife. “Never once did I deserve thee,” he whispered. “I pray our daughter can forgive me. Canst thou forgive me for not listening when thou attempted to speak on our niece's behalf? Canst thou forgive me for denying our daughter voice and her own choosing when I, in my arrogance, sought for her what she did not? I looked for rank, when she looked and found love, and I scorn’d it as beneath me.”

“Only because thou hath been the finest of men to me in all other respects,” Elena said, accepting and returning the embrace.

Innogen nodded. “And mine forgiveness thou shall also have, as no other father would have permitted a daughter to be so indulged and educated outside of Venice.”

Leonato moved to embrace Innogen. “I pray thee for thy forgiveness as well.”

“You will have it, husband. Pray give me the night to allow mine anger to soften, sir.”

He nodded, accepting of that punishment and feeling that he got off lightly.

Olivio took a deep breath and moved to stand several feet away from Benedick. “Senor, dost thou still stand by thy words of yesternight in thine application?”

Don Pedro and Claudio startled. If they had been able they would have been whispering amongst themselves.

Benedick frowned, but was swift to answer, plainly and flatly. “Yea, my lord.”

Olivio flinched slightly at the stiffness, the barely there hint of distrust. Now he understood that the man had cause to question his reasoning. “Thou hath refus'd the offers of my brother, but I beg thee to not refuse this offering of mine. As thou hath prov'd the finest man in the Prince's service and equal to the honour of a great lord, I shall nevermore stand in the way of thy greatest desire; if my daughter still gives her consent then be my heir by taking her to wife. I relinquish my objections as cast aside by thine own actions, and beg of thee to forgive an old man set on seeing his daughter rise to glory by marrying an already titled lord.”

Pietro's jaw slackened with a gasp. He stared at his cousin by marriage, looking for any sign of a trick. But never had he looked more earnest and humbled.

Benedick, rendered as still as any had ever seen him outside of waiting to spring a trap, had to swallow to locate his voice. “I wish that I could say that I can forgive thee only if the lady hath not decided she cannot forgive the distance I created between that I felt thy dictates demanded; dictates I honoured in the hope that I could prove myself worthy of her. If she is able to find it in her heart to forgive, then I will gladly call thee Father. But I cannot accept in this manner.”

He would not say how much it would hurt if Beatrice could not forgive him, or how much he would hate the man if she could not forgive him for trying to prove himself to her father.

The women's heads shock was almost as great as the men's. Olivio was rendered nearly silent. “Refuse? When it is thy wish to marry my daughter?”

“I do not marry a woman given to me as payment, for a woman should come to a man of her own free will and not as an object to belittle and trample, an object of cruelty and resentment. Nay, therefore I refuse such a dishonour and will tread it into the dirt you see fit to call your daughter's honour. Until she is a lady in your eyes and in heart your daughter, your own flesh, then I deny that I have heard you recant your ill toward me. And though it wound me to my soul and beyond, I will not have Beatrice ridiculed in this to have your honour indebted cleared, while hers is torn and her wishes ignored. How, under God, can you call yourself father and yet leave her bleeding all these years while happiness assured I have offered and you throw it my face? Nay, I do this deed for Hero and her father and for Beatrice and for the man she stands by because I wished it of her. Mark you; I wished it of her!"

Elena sucked in a breath. It linked in with Beatrice's comment of Benedick telling her not to elope because he thought it would taint her honor.

He bowed. ”My sincerest apologies, my lady Elena, my lord Leonado and lady Innogen but I find this disrespect a step too far and must speak my mind in the lady Beatrice's defense. She is not a cloak to passed and shared, nor is she chattel to be bought and sold on. She is a rose that once bloomed withers for want, and her father has not seen it.”

Pietro took a hidden pleasure in the dismay on Claudio's face. Clearly he had never thought of thinking in that way toward any woman, including his own mother.

Benedick nodded and bowed. “Peace be with you.” He turned and led Pietro away.

Elena turned an angry look on Olivio. “Well, husband, I thank thee for causing our daughter even more pain. How often did thou say that Beatrice's talents must not be wasted as God saw fit to gift her with them? Educated her in private you did, but then claimed I foisted it all upon thee?! When will thou let her choose in as wise a manner as any man would with such an education?”

Luckily for Olivio the Prince's Messenger, the Constable and the Watch came along with two of Don John's men. Although it left them even less satisfied with their own actions to learn just how easily the Prince and Claudio were led astray by a plan that any sober man would have seen through in an instant.

Leonato turned to Claudio and Don Pedro. “Prince, Count: whilst I see that you were both mightily abus'd by Don John I cannot forgive that you neither challenged the accusations or considered that drink makes true judgement impossible for even the greatest of wisdoms. Whilst my own honour has suffered and I must make amends to the ladies I have wronged, it does not excuse either of you from the parts you played in killing my daughter before us all. On thy honours I demand a penance; and Claudio, only time shall tell if Hero shall ever grant thee true forgiveness as I insist thee serve some great penance. I shall listen to the Lord of Padua and the Doge of Venice if they wish for something particular.”

Claudio accepted it immediately, along with the demand to speak at the family tomb that night.

Although Don Pedro was needed to remind him that drinking himself into oblivion and trying to kill himself in grief were not the actions of an honorable man. Or one who wished to recover his honor.

[Chapter Ten: Ladies' Honour Acknowledged](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/129297.html)


	10. Ladies' Honour Acknowledged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[sykira](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

**Title** : Assumptions Burst  
**Genre** : MAAN  
**Rating** : T  
**Author** : [](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/profile)[**tkel_paris**](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/)  
**Summary** : The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.  
**Disclaimer** : Don't own anything Shakespearean. Also don't have anything to do with the Josie Roarke production that I adore so much. If I could make money off these...  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/) , whose praise has inspired me to try writing even more MAAN fanfics. This is your fault, lovely. ;) Also dedicated to [](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/profile)[**inward_audacity**](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/) , whose comments were the basis for this idea. And thanks to [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[**tardis_mole**](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/) for betaing.  
**Author's Note** : Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

This was supposed to be a “just because” present, but given how long it's taken me it's turn also into a Christmas present. Enjoy and have a Happy Holiday season!

 

[Chapter One](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124507.html) / [Chapter Two](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124771.html) / [Chapter Three](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/125941.html) / [Chapter Four](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126668.html) / [Chapter Five](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126972.html) / [Chapter Six](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127481.html) / [Chapter Seven](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127883.html) / [Chapter Eight](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/128456.html) / [Chapter Nine](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/128923.html)

 

**Assumptions Burst**

**Started September 2, 2015  
Finished December 23-25, 2015**

**Chapter Ten: Ladies' Honour Acknowledged**

Beatrice and Hero sat with the ladies in their chamber. All were in black now, wearing veils and staring of into the distance.

Hero sighed heavily. “My heart is broken, cousin. How shall I ever mend when I cannot leave my father's home, and even then I must keep to a small part of it?”

“In truth I warned thee against Claudio, sensing he was an impressionable scamp. He hath not the steadiness of Benedick or the constancy of even the Prince, or even my cousin, the Duke.”

“First that I have heard thee praise the Prince,” Maria noted.

“Never let it be said that I think he doth not honour his obligations, but I would not wish for a man whose influence is heavily weighted on a man who did not honour his wife above all others. My father would not betray his vows to my mother, and she adores him for that. Whilst I wish he would accept that her wisdom is superior to his own in certain matters he will not. And how can I forgive him for this refusal to accept mine own wishes?”

They heard footsteps. Ursula came into the room, also wearing black but without a veil. “My ladies and equals! Word hath reached us! Yonder is all coiled outside! It is proved that my lady Hero is falsely accused, the Prince and Claudio might'y abused, and Don John who is the author of all is fled and gone!”

There was a general shock and awe. Murmurs spread across the room as they took in the news.

“Well, that is all and well, but how can Hero be restored without having to marry Claudio?” Beatrice demanded. “How can such a man be a steady husband who my cousin can trust to protect her and their children? Completely under a man's power would she be, and he hath proved untrustworthy before.”

“I think him capable of turning himself into the man I see in him,” Hero declared, feeling a lightening of her spirit and hope for the first time in hours.

Ursula shook her head. “My lady, I must agree with Beatrice. She is not wrong, for we must trust that the man shall protect us above all else. A man who will put his own blood or honour completely before his own spawn and wife cannot and should not be trusted. Do not be sure that thy father shall permit the match to happen. Not without a great penance on Claudio's part, which is only proper.”

Hero sighed. “I can accept that, but wish for a speedier conclusion that shall thwart Don John's wishes.”

Maria nodded. “That is the rub, is it not? 'Tis a great pity that there is no resolution that would truly sit well with all of the demands this unlucky situation hath imposed on my lady and both households.”

There was no disputing that. Not even Beatrice had a remark.

Then Olivio, Leonato, and their wives entered the room. The men looked stricken and the women grimly triumphant. Innogen went straight to Hero, taking her hands. Elena sat beside her daughter, taking her hand tightly.

Beatrice glared at her father. “What news, my lord?”

He felt the sting of her words, the implication that he did not deserve the title anymore in her beliefs, and stunned the room by kneeling before her. “Daughter, I must make a confession. I acted according to mine own beliefs, not willing to see what was contrary to them in the world around me. Always did I dote upon thee, but claimed that I was only indulging the whims of my headstrong wife. Troth, I would not have indulged a son more than I did thee, for I saw so much of myself in thee even as thou art the image of thy mother in your present years. I must now confess that I indeed ordered Benedick to leave thee and even commanded his absence from the wedding. Had I not he would have defended thy words of defence and supported them. I know now that thou speaks only the truth and that we could have protected Hero better had my brother and I listened to thee.”

Beatrice could not look with wider eyes. She looked around the room, looking for confirmation in the shocked expressions surrounding her. “Do mine ears deceive me? Is this my own father, telling me that he was wrong?”

“Indeed, Beatrice; I thought only of securing a title for thee through thy husband, never thinking of permitting a man to take our name. Now do I see that Benedick is everything a man as myself could wish in a son and heir, and yet I offended him not an hour ago after he challenged Claudio.”

Gasps erupted from all the women, “Challenged him?!” cried Beatrice, standing from surprise. “He would do that in spite of thy decrees! O blessed senor! Thou art a friend who would be a man for my sake!”

Olivio lowered his eyes, not wishing to meet his daughter's anger when he admitted to the next part. But his honour demanded it. “I offered him your hand, but I said it such that it was meant to satisfy the debt we owe him for defending Hero's honour.”

“What?! To appease thine own honour?! How can thou think it could possibly be any better than how thee hast ignored my own wishes completely over my entire womanly years?!”

“I know now, for he refused me for reasons close to that.”

“What?!” Beatrice cried, terrified. “He hath not changed his wishes, has he?”

“Nay, he said he still wishes to marry thee, but would not unless thou came freely to him. He accused me from using you to satisfy my own honour and said it did nothing of the sort. He called thee a flower that hath withered under my care, and only now do I see it is completely so. Thou wouldst have blossomed under his tender care, and hath struggled to remain vibrant under mine harsh rule. I beg thee, daughter, for forgiveness; and I say to thee that I step aside and shall support whatever thy wish is in marriage. If thou insist on letting the title revert to another branch of the family so it shall be and never again shall any effort be made to fit thee with a master. If instead thou wishes for Benedick then I leave thee to decide where and how; your uncle and I shall exert ourselves to ensure that it could be on the morrow if thou both wish it.”

Beatrice took a deep breath and smiled widely. “O may god forgive me! He hath stayed me in a happy hour! Father, where is Benedick?”

“I do not know. He left shortly after his words of refusal toward my mistaken and wrongful offering.”

Leonato spoke instead, hugging Hero. “I believe he and his right hand went to their quarters. He left the Prince's service when he challenged Claudio.”

Hero drew back in shock. “Did he? And his men follow him?”

“Yes, and you should know that the Duke of Venice, also, spoke for thy honours. He witnessed your return to this house. The Prince and Claudio knew better than to challenge both men's words, particularly when it would mean war with both Padua and Venice; and the Watch captured the men who aided John the Bastard in accusing thee, my daughter. Claudio shall undergo a penance for a year; during that time he cannot approach thee or communicate at all with thee. I urge you, Hero, to take after your cousin and look for a man who treasures your honour even more closely than his own; for Benedick hath done so for Beatrice, and I believe he shall be the finest lord the house of Tomasi shall ever know. And mine brother doth agree with mine assessment.”

Beatrice looked at Bruno, a young servant in her father's employ. “Does thou knowest if the senor and Duke returned to their quarters?”

“Yea, my lady. They did.”

“I shall go to him. And yes, my father, I shall take ladies with me so we are not alone. I shall respect mine honour as he hath, which is more than I have seen from those who ought to have properly protected me.”

She left quickly, leaving three of the ladies in veils to hurry just as fast to accompany her. It was just as well, for Olivio and Leonato each had to be seated to avoid buckling under the pressure of all the humiliations of the day. But Olivio felt the sting of Beatrice's words all the way to his loins. She plainly had not forgiven him for costing her ten years of happiness, nor for not defending her honour when she defended Hero's.

They were overcome enough that Elena had to get their attention. “Husband. Brother. There are a great many things that need to be done before this night. Where shall we begin?”

“I have a spade my brother can borrow,” Leonato voiced more to himself. “Mayhap he shall use it once I have done with it.”

Olivio weakly raised a hand in a wave to appease his brother-in-law. “Before you, in troth, brother, so thee may pat down my sod and erect my dishonour’d stone. And mark you the words that thee should ask of the mason; here lies a dog. Pay him twice to writ upon it, for a mason of good standing would be discouraged to make it. And pay the digger thrice, for he may wish mine body expos’d to the air and left for the crows, yet they may refuse lest they also be sick from my dishonour upon the feast. Perhaps herbs to sweeten me would entice them? Or perhaps pay the digger thrice and thrice more to lay me deeper and hotter than God’s hand can reach? All this and more is fit for what I have done,” he said. He wiped the unmanly but deserved tears from his face and turned to his wife. “Elena, my beloved, I believe I need thee to make the decisions. I must acquaint myself with the feeling of not being in control of my House's future, and thy quiet judgements have benefited the lands before.”

Elena's eyes softened as she sat beside him. “My love, I would never have wished such pain upon thee. I wished only that thou would see that Beatrice's wisdom was enough to be a worthy heir. Trust in her, my husband, and all will be well.”

He nodded, accepting an embrace from her. He would need more later, in private; not that he felt assured that he would receive such

Leonato looked to his own wife, eyes tired and defeated. “Innogen, will thou act in my name to ensure that all rites are performed?”

“That I shall, having known them from early in mine life.”

[Chapter Eleven: Lovers' Quarrel Silenced Forever](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/130112.html)


	11. Lovers' Quarrel Silenced Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[sykira](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

**Title** : Assumptions Burst  
**Genre** : MAAN  
**Rating** : T  
**Author** : [](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/profile)[**tkel_paris**](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/)  
**Summary** : The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.  
**Disclaimer** : Don't own anything Shakespearean. Also don't have anything to do with the Josie Roarke production that I adore so much. If I could make money off these...  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/) , whose praise has inspired me to try writing even more MAAN fanfics. This is your fault, lovely. ;) Also dedicated to [](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/profile)[**inward_audacity**](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/) , whose comments were the basis for this idea. And thanks to [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[**tardis_mole**](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/) for betaing.  
**Author's Note** : Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

This was supposed to be a “just because” present, but given how long it's taken me it's turn also into a Christmas present. Enjoy and have a Happy Holiday season!

 

[Chapter One](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124507.html) / [Chapter Two](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124771.html) / [Chapter Three](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/125941.html) / [Chapter Four](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126668.html) / [Chapter Five](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126972.html) / [Chapter Six](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127481.html) / [Chapter Seven](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127883.html) / [Chapter Eight](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/128456.html) / [Chapter Nine](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/128923.html) / [Chapter Ten](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/129297.html)

 

**Assumptions Burst**

**Started September 2, 2015  
Finished December 23-25, 2015**

**Chapter Eleven: Lovers' Quarrel Silenced Forever**

Benedick sat staring at a child's toy Pietro had found. Each had held a look of sadness when they gazed upon it. They had each attempted to put words to music.

But his attention was truly on his lieutenant, who stood nearby on a call to the Doge. Both men's bodies held poorly concealed tension.

“Aye, father; my lord implores thee to wait for additional word from here. A war when we have just returned from action is not in the interests of any, and he would not have Messina endure thy anger... Grievous is the offence from Olivio, though I feel Claudio's makes his seem like a fly to brush off... Nay, we neither would wish war on Messina, and there is something strange about Don Bastard's involvement in the accusations against Hero. Benedick is half-convinced that the Snake hath used his tongue to beguile the Prince and the Count; yet he doth not exonerate either man for falling for the trap... Father, out of respect for the lady my lord loves and for the memory of the lady I love, wilt thou not spare Messina from suffering for the foolishness of one noble...? You are, sir...? Yea, I shall relate whatever I learn... Godspeed, Father.”

“What news?” asked Benedick, warily.

Pietro rested the receiver after ending the call, and exhaled slowly as he came over and sat down, picking the toy up as a distraction. “I hardly know what to think. Father was deeply furious; yet he marveled at thy insistence for mercy. What is more unsettling is that thy father's advisors contacted him; they are to speak very shortly.”

“Indeed? I fear what may become of our fathers setting aside their differences.”

“As do I.” At length Pietro shook his head and handed the toy to Benedick, changing the subject. “How many men are truly capable of using words in some fashion deemed ideal and yet so strange to any plain speech?”

His lord exhaled sharply and fell back against his reclining chair. “Leander the good swimmer, Troilus the first employer of panders, and a whole bookful of these quondam carpet-mangers, whose names yet run smoothly in the even road of a blank verse, why, they were never so truly turned over and over as my poor self in love. Marry, I cannot show it in rhyme; I have tried: I can find out no rhyme to 'lady' but 'baby,' an innocent rhyme; for 'scorn,' 'horn,' a hard rhyme; for, 'school,' 'fool,' a babbling rhyme; very ominous endings: no, I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo in festival terms.”

Pietro's exhale was harsh. “Not that right of us is able to go about any wooing. The lady I wished for is gone from reach forever in absolute, and the lady thou wishes for may yet be unable to permit a courtship for respecting her cousin.”

“I cannot act without clear proof of Beatrice's wishing for the match; and without any interference from her family. That we have had enough.”

“I fear that the quarreling between our fathers, not to mention my father and Claudio's, must seem mild compared to the pain thou hast endured because of this. I wonder if the alliance to my brother was in Olivio's mind a point to ill dispose him toward thee as Venice and Padua are so often at odds.”

“And not even my vow to forgo my father's customs worked upon him. It is all uncertain. All that I know is that I expect to hear very soon from Claudio or else I shall subscribe him a coward.”

“A coward he hath always been in matters of the heart,” Pietro declared, with a spite that he rarely showed. “He had a lack of knowledge about the ways of others'.”

“He hath certainly been unaware of how thou hast governed his behaviours by refusing to engage in arguments with him. Even given the low cast of honour this day, I am still fair amused at the look on his face each time thee turns thy back on his wit. Though hast greater patience than I, brother.”

“I was not aware that it amused thee.”

“I did not wish it known,” Benedick admitted. “The Prince would have been displeased. Alas, I believe he has noted your back turned and Claudio’s dislike. Needs-must he hath noted my amusement if not my refusal to stop you carving your honour into the Count’s stupidity. He deserv’d that and more. Especially now.”

Pietro nodded. “I have oft desired to carve much into his skin, if not for mine own self but for my mother, but thought it too thick to reach his stupidity. I thank thee, brother, for restraining me from attempting it. My honour would have been restored, doubtless, upon such a deed, but it would be for my mother more. And Viscount Olivio’s in extension, for the insult spread has been tasted by all of the line, blood and by marriage. My father’s anger notwithstanding, I shall not quench that dishonour unless thee sees it just that I do’t.”

“Just it is, but I have stayed thy hand to stop a war none can win,” Benedick replied. “And though it angers me in your stead to restrain you, Padua and her mightiest could not stand against all of Italy. A war of words it must be, oft kept silent to save blood from being spilled.”

Suddenly they heard footsteps approaching. “Those are soft steps, my lord,” Pietro commented. “Ladies summoning us to dinner?”

To their surprise, it was four ladies all clad in black and wearing veils. They stood, uncertain who they were but bowing nonetheless.

One stepped to the front and raised her veil.

Benedick started. “Lady Beatrice! What does thou doest here?”

“I came to speak with thee.”

“Please say it was not against thy father's will.”

“My father hath withdrawn his commands. I am my own master until I marry, and can be my own master after if a man wish it continue.”

Benedick's heart leapt into his throat, and he looked at Pietro. “Pray give us a little space to speak.”

“I shall remain near enough to safeguard her honour, but far enough that the pair of thee may have no overhearers. But, for your honour also, my brother, pray, leave the door wide.”

Pietro bowed to Beatrice and stepped out to join the ladies as Beatrice sat in the chair beside Benedick, in full view of the door and the walkway beyond. One of the ladies spoke to Pietro.

“I am amazed, sir. None would be so generous that I know.”

He recognised the voice, having heard it chiding the young gentleman Bruno with a mother's rebuke for some act of youthful exuberance. “Yes, Mistress Maria, but a lady's honour is the most cherished thing to a man of true valour and honour. He safeguards it closer than his own, for hers can be tarnished forever by the wrong words by the wrong person. A man's can be as well, but it is far easier for a man to redeem himself than a lady can. He can challenge the accuser directly, which a lady cannot; she is dependent on a man being willing to support her. If she hath none, she is doomed. I cannot permit what happened to Hero to happen to another and I feared what would become of my lord's lady. My only shame is that my loyalty to my lord forbade me from attending the events of today, for I would have added my knowledge of the lady's innocence.”

“But it is proved she was falsely accused,” she murmured.

“It is not enough.”

Maria tilted her head, taking in his manner and expression. “You speak as though she was dear to you, Duke of Venice.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Yea, and I would give mine own life if it would restore hers.”

One of the veiled ladies listened keenly to this, head also tilted to show her interest.

Nearby, Benedick and Beatrice struggled for words. Neither could find them at first. So many foul things had been exchanged between them since her father's commands that had parted them over ten years hence, and now that there were no such barriers it was leaving them more than a bit confused.

Benedick chose to jump into humour. “I hardly dared think that thou had come because I wished it.”

She smiled slightly. “Yea, Senor, and depart when you bid me.”

His smile let her know he doubted that, but he played along with the banter. “Oh, stay but till then.”

“'Then' is spoken, fare you well.”

He sagged into silent laughter, well aware that she had caught him out again. It was with immense relief that he heard her stop walking away and even whisper a No out loud.

“But I shall tarry longer than thou wish it and ignore thy bid,” she decided.

“I shall tarry also, then,” he decided, watching her retake the chair. “And shall complain mightily until hunger and thirst drive me away.”

“And I shall follow,” she teased airily. “For by then a lady may be fair swooned being of lighter air and greater need.”

“And so he shall ignore her there the more than she ignored him,” he tossed back. “For a man with two shadows canst carry them both.”

“He must,” Beatrice responded. “For a man with two shadows is a man back’d by a woman he trusts.”

“Truly an honour that has passed me by. For the words of her father would have me leave it.” Benedick tensed, realising he had said too much. He had promised himself not to reveal it, but to his surprise Beatrice seemed unsurprised by the reveal. “Pray tell, you know of which I speak?”

“I know if it and of much more besides,” she confirmed. “I know of many words you have not shared that in the small hours of the night you share only with your sword and admit only in the light of day to your brother. Only your sword doth betray you.”

Benedick swallowed, knowing she didn’t mean the sword that lay across the table. “My apologies, my lady. I meant no disrespect, but having loved you from a distance has pained my soul and blighted my nights, when both could have shared your company and in marriage your bed.

“And to that is why I have come. For love is greater than the emptiness of my heart and the marriage bed together. Ten years have I scorned that blame, which was not yours to carry and in ten minutes I hath seen it overturned and restored me my heart to you. And, for pity, had I wished to stop your hand to save your sword from further wear.” She glanced in his direction with a blush, well aware he understood the hint.

Bendick neither denied it nor did he repent of it, nor did he dare a flush of embarrassment to mar the wit. Most men took to them a woman of the night. He spent his breath on the prayers of heavenward exclaim. He doubted that Pietro had spoken of it, but thought instead that perhaps his prayers may have been overheard. He would speak not a word of it. “Sweet Beatrice, how dost thou know of such matters?”

She gained even more color, but was prompt in her answer. “Two sources: my aunt spoke of them to Hero as part of the lessons prior to today, and Margaret was overheard many times speaking of men's swords at the pub. For doth not man have two tongues and woman two mouths?”

“Quite true, and I must praise your aunt for her forthrightness with your cousin.” He cleared his throat and changed the subject, using humor to ease the flames in their faces. “I pray thee, my lady... for which of my bad parts did thou first fall in love with me?”

She smiled, grateful for the tension break. “For them all together; which maintained so politic a state of evil that they will not admit any good part to intermingle with them. But for which of my good parts did you first suffer love for me?”

Benedick had to give a motion that he granted her a point for that phrasing. “Suffer love! A good epithet! I do suffer love indeed, for I love thee against my will.”

“In spite of your heart, I think; alas, poor heart! If you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for yours; for I will never love that which my friend hates.”

“Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.”

“It appears not in this confession: there's not one wise man among twenty that will praise himself.”

“An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that lived in the lime of good neighbours. If a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument than the bell rings and the widow weeps.”

“And how long is that, think you?”

“Question: why, an hour in clamour and a quarter in rheum: therefore is it most expedient for the wise, if Don Worm, his conscience, find no impediment to the contrary, to be the trumpet of his own virtues, as I am to myself. So much for praising myself, who, I myself will bear witness, is praiseworthy: and now I must speak plainly on a matter that has often left me without any words. Beatrice, I have wished almost since I knew thy wit to be beyond anything any women I had ever met had developed. I cannot see myself trusting another as I have you. I vow that I shall forswear my father's traditions and make Messina and your family's house my own. Your rights I shall defend, taking only the title and name according to the law, but not in practice. The traditions are thine to teach me, and I shall cherish them and aid thee in teaching our heirs... if thou will still have me after I left.”

“I confess I was very angry that you left me without a proper word; it seemed that I had been played with false dice. I had to be informed by Hero that you had been commanded so by my father, and you did not wish to tarnish my honour because you loved me so much. Much did it explain, and I find I cannot remain angry at thee. Far more did you do in staying away than my father did. Only my mother's persuasion upon him allowed me the liberty to refuse suitors as she could speak to her own actions that permitted them to be matched. I pray thee... can thou forgive me for letting mine anger set my wit upon thy character?”

He took her hands gently, looking for any sign he should let go. When she gave none, he tightened his hold ever so slightly. “My sweet, I do not know how else I should have behaved had I been in thy place. I cannot and do not fault thee. I only ask... will thou allow me to live in thy heart... die in thy lap... and be buried in thine eyes for as long as we both live?”

She sucked in a breath from the moment he started his plea, and felt entranced. She managed a smile. “And you say you cannot woo? I am done away with. Will you be mine tomorrow that you may fulfill those enchanting words?”

“Tomorrow is not soon enough, but I and my sword do swear. Both swords,” he added. “It can be done?”

“My father will make it happen if I wish it.”

His smile became huge, and he tugged to see if she would come into an embrace. She joyfully went to him and threw her arms around his person. He lifted her off her chair and beyond her feet, cheering together as they also shed tears of relief that their long wait would be over.

Tears with a hint of pain as they both knew it would not have happened without Hero's tragedy. Although hers were not as strong as he expected. He leaned to whisper. “Can you be happy when your cousin is gone to your ancestors?”

She stilled and leaned back to look into his eyes, answering in the same tone. “I must confess a secret; one that must not be repeated at all.”

“I can be secret as a dumb man; tho must knowest that.”

The earnestness is his expression persuaded her that her instincts were right. She leaned in close to whisper the truth.

His mouth dropped. 'Truly?”

“Yes, but you cannot tell anyone. Not even your friend, Pietro.”

He closed his eyes and nodded, schooling his features back into a more controlled look. “I swear no word shall cross my lips or eyes unless or if you decree otherwise.”

“Thank you.” She returned to the embrace, which he took great delight in finally being able to handle.

Pietro's eyes watered. His own dreams were forever shattered, but he could take some small joy in knowing that his lord's long-suffering was at last at an end. It was so long overdue that there could not but be some bittersweet tears over the resolution.

Benedick drew back slightly. “I must contact my father and the Doge; many lives may be at stake and prompt word of our nuptials may lessen their fury and permit reason to rule.”

Beatrice's eyes widened. “You think they would call a war?”

“Many fear it; Pietro and I have barely kept them from bubbling like cauldrons.”

He led her to the phone as he spoke, hearing the others follow to keep them in sight. He dialed and then held Beatrice close as he waited. Within moments he began speaking:

“Good den, brother. It is your younger bane. I must speak with our father immediately... Yea, I know he is speaking with the Doge. That suits my purposes for they must both know that I am to be married tomorrow... I spoke but true. The event I have wished for ten years to come shall at last happen... I thank thee...”

He drew the phone aside to smirk at Beatrice at Pietro. “My brothers predicted I would die a bachelor.”

Both were amused. But he did not get more time to explain.

“Greetings again, Father. Are you speaking still with the Doge...? Aye, good day to you, sir. I call to inform thee both that Beatrice and I shall at last be married tomorrow... Proof hath been found that Don Grouch is the author of the slander against the Lady Hero, and both the Prince and Claudio have admitted they sinned... Father, I am sorry that my family cannot be present; yet to wait one more day is intolerable for myself and my lady... I thank you both and I believe she shall as well... Indeed...? Either Pietro or I shall call tomorrow then, if we doth not hear from either of thee first... Aye, good night.”

As he hung up Beatrice eyed his stunned expression. “What said they, Benedick?”

“Whilst my father is not pleased with my choice to forsake my heritage he is delighted that I become heir to a viscounty. The Doge is rather more pleased, although he restrained it.”

“All this we expected and yet more than we hoped,” Pietro noted. “But what hath thee in alarm?”

“Our fathers are in agreement to a truce, and to contact the King to suggest a penance for Claudio and the Prince for slandering us.”

More than one person sucked in a sharp breath. What would the King say when he found out?

[Chapter Twelve: Listening to the Players](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/130383.html)


	12. Listening to the Players

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[sykira](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

**Title** : Assumptions Burst  
**Genre** : MAAN  
**Rating** : T  
**Author** : [](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/profile)[**tkel_paris**](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/)  
**Summary** : The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.  
**Disclaimer** : Don't own anything Shakespearean. Also don't have anything to do with the Josie Roarke production that I adore so much. If I could make money off these...  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/) , whose praise has inspired me to try writing even more MAAN fanfics. This is your fault, lovely. ;) Also dedicated to [](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/profile)[**inward_audacity**](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/) , whose comments were the basis for this idea. And thanks to [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[**tardis_mole**](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/) for betaing.  
**Author's Note** : Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

This was supposed to be a “just because” present, but given how long it's taken me it's turn also into a Christmas present. Enjoy and have a Happy Holiday season!

 

[Chapter One](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124507.html) / [Chapter Two](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124771.html) / [Chapter Three](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/125941.html) / [Chapter Four](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126668.html) / [Chapter Five](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126972.html) / [Chapter Six](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127481.html) / [Chapter Seven](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127883.html) / [Chapter Eight](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/128456.html) / [Chapter Nine](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/128923.html) / [Chapter Ten](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/129297.html) / [Chapter Eleven](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/130112.html)

 

**Assumptions Burst**

**Started September 2, 2015  
Finished December 23-25, 2015**

**Chapter Twelve: Listening to the Players**

It was the following morning, and Claudio stumbled behind Don Pedro as they joined the assembly. The former was hoping no one would challenge him on his hangover, and the latter was praying that his commanding presence would be enough to silence any questions about the Count's behavior.

“Good morrow to this fair assembly,” declared Don Pedro.

Leonato stood in gravitas. “Good morrrow, Prince. Good morrrow, Claudio. Are you here to witness the marriage of Benedick to Beatrice, and then hear us further?”

“We are,” said both men after a moment's pause, for neither was expecting that. Claudio's reaction was more pronounced that Don Pedro's, but the latter's hid a great deal more feeling on the subject.

“Then sit yourselves with your men, for the wedding shall commence soon!”

The two lords did, just as Benedick and Pietro entered. They, like the rest of the men, were in black suits to attend to the gravity of the mourning of Hero. They turned to look at the assembly and Benedick frowned when he noted Olivio sitting with the Lady Elena. It was tradition for the father to walk his daughter to her new husband.

But he did not ask any questions. He wanted to reach the happy event of being able to call himself Beatrice's. He would not think of it the other way around, although he would say it to remind others that he stood as her sword against any who would defame her.

Don Pedro, seated behind Olivio, had no such restraint or reason for it. “Good Viscount Olivio, why are you not with your daughter?”

The man closed his eyes tightly to school his reaction. His pride had not learnt its lesson quite completely. “As she reminded me yesterday I have lost a good deal of her respect over my lack of care toward her wishes and needs. She gives herself away, my lord.”

Before Don Pedro or Claudio could give a shocked response the wedding march began. All stood and turned to see the procession. Those outside the family waited in wonder over what would be the case of the day.

Four ladies walked in a line, all with the pacing of a wedding. But three veiled, black-clad ladies trailed behind the one in white. Beatrice led the way toward the man who would be her lord by law, wearing her mother's wedding gown and veil. Many who remembered that day gasped at how much she looked like a slightly older version of how her mother did that day. None could remember her looking better, or with a brighter light in her eyes.

Beatrice and Benedick's eyes were locked on each other. Longing and the shared relief passed between them. It was almost over. Soon the words and rings would be exchanged.

Once she was at his side they joined hands, after she handed her flowers to the lady behind her. They stood behind to the side and watched with the others.

Friar Francis gladly spoke a simple version of the vows, in accordance with the appearance of Hero's being mourned. It suited the pair being wed, for neither wished for one moment's delay. Neither did they notice the surprise that Beatrice also placed a ring on Benedick's finger – and act meant to declare their equality in the marriage and her place as the blood heir of Olivio. She smiled as she gave herself to Benedick, with the one change to the vows being the obey part. Benedick himself had insisted that they switch it for the man's word, just in case his wife took any offence to the term. He had promised that she would only have to obey when they both knew it was needed for the family's sake. Their family's sake.

At last Friar Francis proclaimed to the assembly, “Now let all know that this man and this woman are married. Senor Benedick, you may kiss your bride – with her blessing, knowing her as we do.”

There was a scattering of laughter as Benedick and Beatrice at last locked lips, arms wrapped tightly around each other. The Applause was light, but heartfelt – especially from their families. Even Pietro found the ability to smile at the evident relief and love in the kiss.

Although there were scattered, soft laughter at how long the kiss lasted. It seemed like they were looking to find out how long could a couple kiss without needing to part for air. But no one seemed ready to challenge it, not willing to potentially endure the anger of either party.

At length the pair parted enough to look into each other's eyes in a dazed state. Slowly they turned to face the assembly, his arm wrapping around her shoulders and hers around his waist with her other hand taking the one resting off her shoulder. Both were still breathing heavily, and making faces as they sought composure again.

Then Pietro did find a small laugh. “Love ought not to be forced to endure such a wait. I fear it might kill them both yet.”

Benedick laughed. “I'll tell thee what, Pietro; a college of wit-crackers cannot flout me out of my humour. Dost thou think I care for a satire or an epigram? No: if a man will be beaten with brains, a' shall wear nothing handsome about him. In brief, since I do purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have said  
against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.”

They looked upon each other until Leonato interrupted. “I'm afraid that I must remind thee of thy challenge to Claudio. Know that I have demanded a penance and he hath agreed. Shall that suffice or does thy honour demand the challenge continue to a conclusion?”

Benedick let Beatrice go to step toward Claudio, who stood to meet him. “I would still think to beat thee, but I believe thy honour will be tested enough by whatever devices Leonato and any others who hath cause to demand a penance from thee can think of. So... live unbruised...” He still slapped him, and cautioned over the aftermath of the squawk, “And remember to learn who a woman is before you ask for her hand!”

Claudio chose to merely nod, remaining silent.

“With that said, I do not speak for others of this House or Leonato's that you have wronged.” Satisfied with the nervousness he observed, Benedick stepped back to his wife's side. “I believe my wife wishes to reveal something to the assembly.”

“Indeed I do. Uncle, shall I?”

Leonato was one of the few who knew that the words were an act, for she had earned the right to state what truly happened. “Proceed, niece.”

Beatrice stepped to where all eyes would see. Once she knew she had everyone's attention she began. “Whilst Hero's slander lived there was little we could do. But now that it is proved false and that my and her words were proved the truth, I wish you to learn another truth.”

Many frowned as one of the ladies stepped forward when Beatrice beckoned her, back turned to the assembly and facing Beatrice before she removed her veil. She took a deep breath and turned to reveal her face. It was Hero.

Many gasped. Claudio nearly passed out against Don Pedro, and Benedick barely caught Pietro before he fell over from shock.

Innogen stood to stand by her daughter. “Whiles her slander lived, Hero could not. But with it proved false can she be restored to her rightful place. I can't bare that I was forced to pretend her dead, all because I and my sister and niece were not believed when we defended Hero's innocence. In essence murdered before all of society. A pox on anyone who would dare discount all they hath seen of a child once she is grown, who dare not challenge a man who knowest not the lady he accuses or knows her not enough!”

Don Pedro and Claudio felt the pain of her words. Claudio more so, because he knew he could have been calling Hero his Countess had he not believed or challenged Don John.

Pietro's shock became noticed by Hero, and she looked also to Claudio's shock. The level of surprise seemed similar, and yet the emotions behind the former was a surprise even with the overhearing of the other day. It made some things about his actions toward her suddenly make sense. She knew she would have to consider it later, when she was able. Instead she turned to the assembly. “I died in every sense except the physical upon realising of what I was accused. But I do live, and sure as I live I am a maiden.”

Friar Francis stepped forward. “All this amazement can I qualify. Meantime let wonder seem familiar, and to the Viscount's let us presently so the marriage which hath ta'en place may be celebrated.”

Leonato stood. “Let one thing be clear. Claudio, thou cannot even consider approaching Hero again until thy penance is over, and in the meantime thou cannot even exchange a single word with her. On this am I firm. None may act as a proxy for thee, for I expect any man who seeks her hand to seek it himself. If I find he feels the need to have another speak for his tongue I shall dismiss his suit out of hand.”

Claudio and the Prince accepted this silently. There were no words that could make up for what Don Perdo's idea of helping his right hand had permitted. Had Claudio indeed tried on his own it might have all turned out differently.

Neither wished to think for an instant that Hero might have actually turned down his suit had he done so.

The Prince's Messenger hurried into the room, snapping a salute. “My lord, two urgent messages. First, your brother, Don John, is ta'en in flight and brought with armed men back to Messina.” He handed the Prince the letter of proof.

Benedick spoke over the murmurs of the assembly. “Think not on him till the morrow: I'll devise thee brave punishments for him.” The look he shared with Beatrice, who he held in a mutual embrace, suggested that she at least would be consulted on said punishments.

The Messenger was not finished. “And this message is from the King, thy father.”

Don Pedro flinched subtly but promptly took the second letter. He opened it swiftly and stilled as he read it. With a pale face he turned to Leonato. “Governor, my father, the King, calls me immediately to Aragon to make account of my part in this sorry matter. Benedick, I shall inform him of thy insistence of a say in the punishment of my brother. Claudio, thou must accompany me: the King hath been in communication with the Lord of Padua and the Doge of Venice, and he thought of a penance that made both lords agree to not seek further recompense against thee for the offences to their respective Houses.”

Claudio stiffened at the mention of Pietro's father, but knew he had no right to protest. “I submit to whatever invention the King sets before me.”

“I pray for thee, Claudio of Florence, for the King, my father, hath decreed that for thy failure to see through my brother's cunning and for the offences committed against Benedick of Padua, and Pietro of Venice, and for carrying on the slander done by thine own father against the Doge of Venice's wife, thou shall spend one year working thy way through his personal household starting as a footman.”

The shock was nearly universal, but Claudio's was the greatest. “A footman, the lowest servant position; where I could be beaten for merely speaking?”

Don Pedro's expression was mournful. The only position lower was a scullery maid, and if he read between the lines his father had contemplated it. But he would spare the Count that knowledge. “It is the King's will, Claudio.”

Claudio lowered his head. “Very well, my lord.”

The assembly removed slowly, following the trail of the wedded couple who walked hand in hand to the party of Olivio's home where the celebration would take place. With their deception revealed Beatrice could smile as widely as she wished, and Benedick felt at liberty to be as merry as he felt. He knew how fortunate he was, and wished that everyone knew it.

To see him and Olivio embrace as father and son was a shock to many. Although none were surprised that there was some lingering tension, as Benedick would not forget the pain caused by the older man, and Olivio could not forget his own dismissal of a man greater than he. Nor would Beatrice, but perhaps her heart would forgive sooner as she would not have been the person she was without Olivio's influence.

Don Pedro and his men excused themselves, although the invitation was open to all but Claudio. The Prince could not celebrate even if he were not expected to return home. His honour had been tarnished by his own actions, and he also found he did not wish to witness much further the joy that Benedick found in being the recipient of Beatrice's smiles and embraces. It was now evident to even the most blind person that the pair were madly in love and had eyes for no one else.

He felt grateful that he had insisted on the lady giving her free acceptance, for he had heard a hint that Olivio had intended to try to force the marriage upon Beatrice had this not happened. In that he felt that his brother had done one good deed by accident. It might be a blight enough on his joy, especially once he was forced to make account to Padua and Venice. Instead, he shed one tear at his lost chance with Beatrice and let that be butter enough for his grief, and vowed to bear the rest as a soldier bears the loss of brothers in war. With dignity, silence and fond memory, and perhaps a poem if he could but concoct one without a beer to drown it. He would feel as keenly the loss of his own brother, Benedick, but was glad he had at last won happiness with a fine woman.

Escorting Hero and her gentlewoman was Pietro. He walked close enough to speak softly whilst observing all proper behavior. “My lady, words fail me to express how pleased I am that thou live. I had been sure I would die with thee.”

She was stunned, and then realized from his flush that he had not intended to say quite so much. She immediately felt a need to put him at ease. “I am pleased that others have wished for my health. Alas that not everyone would have ta'en such care toward myself.”

“A lady should be cared for, protected so none can impeach her honour. Yet I see a point to how the Lady Beatrice believes. Perhaps we do a little too much and prevent the ladies from ensuring their own honour's safely as a man is expected to do.”

She looked in curiosity at him, blinking as she considered the level of care he was showing. He had not just spoken quite so much as quite so openly. She could do nought but wonder at what else he had to say, but kept his tongue and left her intrigued.

[Chapter Thirteen: Peace Found](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/130936.html)


	13. Peace Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[sykira](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

**Rating** : T  
**Author** : [](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/profile)[**tkel_paris**](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/)  
**Summary** : The lives of Beatrice and Benedick are made more complicated by the presence of her father, who has plans for his only child. Plans she does not agree with.  
**Disclaimer** : Don't own anything Shakespearean. Also don't have anything to do with the Josie Roarke production that I adore so much. If I could make money off these...  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/) , whose praise has inspired me to try writing even more MAAN fanfics. This is your fault, lovely. ;) Also dedicated to [](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/profile)[**inward_audacity**](https://inward-audacity.livejournal.com/) , whose comments were the basis for this idea. And thanks to [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[**tardis_mole**](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/) for betaing.  
**Author's Note** : Posted in [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/)'s honor. You know why. Sorry this is so late. But I think you'll like this one. I've created an OC, and I think I'm almost as in love with this one as I am with Benedick. You'll see why. :D

This was supposed to be a “just because” present, but given how long it's taken me it's turn also into a Christmas present. Enjoy and have a Happy Holiday season!

 

[Chapter One](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124507.html) / [Chapter Two](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/124771.html) / [Chapter Three](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/125941.html) / [Chapter Four](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126668.html) / [Chapter Five](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/126972.html) / [Chapter Six](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127481.html) / [Chapter Seven](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/127883.html) / [Chapter Eight](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/128456.html) / [Chapter Nine](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/128923.html) / [Chapter Ten](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/129297.html) / [Chapter Eleven](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/130112.html) / [Chapter Twelve](http://%22http.tkel-paris.livejournal.com/130383.html%22)

 

**Assumptions Burst**

**Started September 2, 2015  
Finished December 23-25, 2015**

**Chapter Thirteen: Peace Found**

The group was gathering once again, and the tension was all over the room. Olivio was pacing, his face drawn and smoking rapidly. He was sharing looks with every older man in the room, who found little comfort to give him.

The only ones absent were Elena, Innogen, Beatrice, Maria, and Benedick. The reason was natural, given that it had been over a year since the wedding.

Footsteps announced visitors. Leonato raised his eyebrows. “Who would come when he hath left word that none are to call?”

Titus, at the door, spoke. “Sirs, it is the Prince and Count Claudio. They say they bring proof that Claudio's penance is complete.”

All eyes looked to Leonato for guidance, uncertain how to act. None had seen either man since the wedding of Beatrice and Benedick.

The Governor remained calm. “Let them enter, for this day was coming.”

Titus and Angelo opened the door further, letting both lords enter along with a few attendants. The Messenger was right behind them, carrying letters.

“Good Senor Leonato, Viscount Olivio; I pray that I am welcome and not a burden.”

Time had allowed Leonato to approach with a welcoming smile. “Thy repentance was bound to be true, your grace: for though trouble came it was not of your doing, and your willingness to bend proved thy honour.”

Olivio nodded. “Fortune hath returned thee to her favour, Prince; though the cost was high it is plain that the Kingdom's trust hath never been misplaced.”

The Prince was grateful and accepted the sort of embraces he got a year earlier when he brought back nearly full numbers after the action. He drew back after the second and motioned to Claudio. “Here is the County with the final proof.”

Claudio presented a letter personally to Leonato. “From your friend in the Court of the King, the King himself, as you insisted.”

“'Tis his hand, I agree,” Leonato remarked through his cigar. “Let us see whether he agrees that thy command was honoured.”

All were silent as the two men read it together. Their attention to it was complete.

At length Olivio nodded as Leonato folded the letter. “Our friend hath always been one to reveal the worst things that a person sent to them does; yet he reports none. Even the Lord of Padua and the Doge of Venice respectively reported a change when the King visited each man. Claudio, thy penance is complete.”

Claudio breathed a sigh of relief and bowed in respect to both men. Only one was strictly speaking his superior in rank, but the Governor deserved the same respect even had he not been Hero's father. “Noble sirs, I have disposed henceforth of Claudio as I had been; much time have I spent watching what others do to see if it matches what I am told. I pray that I have managed to secure a keener eye on the world.”

“Time shall reveal the depth of thy new understanding, Claudio,” Olivio said, keeping the situation calm.

“I do pray thee to speak an apology directly to Hero, as little as I deserve to ask for her forgiveness.”

Hero, sitting with Margaret and Ursula, gave a little smile. “Months ago did I release my pain and I daresay anger, my lord; to hold on to it would have been as certain a poison on my body as the actual kind. You have been forgiven.”

He exhaled with a huge smile. “I dare not assume it can ever be forgiven, but I beg leave to speak again with thee.”

“I fear that I cannot do.”

Claudio then noted who was standing guard near her. He nodded, aware that he had to treat this man with more respect than before as he had aided in proving his own foolishness. “Good day, Duke of Venice. How dost your lord, the senor?”

“He is within with his lady, who is very near to bearing fruit. Her mother and aunt are with him in attending to her.”

Don Pedro was wide-eyed. “Within the birthing chamber?! It is unthinkable for a man to be present!”

“He would not hear of being parted from Beatrice,” Olivio explained. “Her cries as it began seemed to frighten him as nothing ever had before, and he vowed nothing could prevent him from being there to aid her in enduring the pains. None of us had the words to persuade him otherwise.”

“In exact his words,” Pietro put in to quote. “'That man doth plant, therefore he must reap'. My brother took it literally and has sidestepped all lesser argument against.”

Claudio's face could not have been more frozen into one expression. “I am all amazement, and yet it doth sound very like Benedick to carry on as he felt was right; convention he had little regard for when it stopped the right acts from taking place.”

Pietro nodded. “All this and more hath he done for his lady in helping prepare her for the day when they take her parents' place as the heads of the family.”

Don Pedro smiled upon thinking of another matter to discuss. “How did the Lord of Padua react to hearing that his son resigned his own name? I cannot imagine that he took the news kindly, although I cannot say that I heard the details even when I visited Padua.”

Pietro smiled. “Present was I when the letter was received. Offended was he that he was given no notice of the wedding taking place, and dismayed that his son would forsake his heritage. Had Benedick been exiled pain he would have felt on his mother's behalf; I believe his ways were born out of witnessing her own trials as the Lady of Padua, for the Lord is not known for being accepting of a woman being anything but meek. In short the Lady Beatrice is by disposition entirely unsuitable; and yet he could not argue with her giving her husband a large fortune, lands, an eventual title and children of a royal bloodline.”

The Prince sighed and shook his head. “All this doth not surprise me; he is indeed the sort of man thou hast described and it was to free Benedick from a situation where I thought he would suffer that I implored to secure his service. It was to father and son's mutual pleasure that I offered, and my father had hope that the Senor's conduct in war would be enough to please the father. Alas that it hath ta'en so long!”

“His brothers are equally dismayed, but I believe there is some hint that they would be glad to let him have the charge of looking after their mother once the eldest is the Lord of Padua,” Olivio noted, his disapproval there for a blind man to see. “To care for an elder is an obligation, and they neither will take their own parts in it.”

Claudio nodded. “But I again ask; Lady Hero, might I be permitted a chance to speak on my own behalf?”

“That would force me to be disrespectful to my lord.”

He straightened, as did the Prince. “Your lord? Do you mean your father?”

Hero sighed and stood. Her left hand had been concealed by her right, and now displayed a ring on her finger. And her figure was showing a slight increase in her middle in the front, an increase that Pietro placed a hand over protectively and she covered with her left hand.

The widening eyes of both Don Pedro and Claudio nearly made Leonato smile. Instead he enlightened them. “Benedick and his men have joined in the defence of Messina and the surrounding lands, and with them Pietro of Venice. He stood by Hero, watching over her as she healed from thy betrayal, Claudio; and five months ago did he approach her with a wish to court her for marriage. Long had he adored her, he said, and kept silent because he could see that his suit was unwelcome when Hero's heart was thine. But his steady presence and care for her honour led to her accepting him, and she became his Duchess not two weeks later. With great joy did we greet the proof that she is quick with child.”

Pietro could not help himself. He had to add. “Such care did I earn her complete trust, giving her the proof that I should rather die than let her come to dishonour by any man's words; certainly never my own.”

Claudio swallowed. “Didst thou learn this at Benedick's example?”

“Nay; I learned from the woman you called a gutter-snipe because my father's homeland chooses to educate its daughters, and mine was unusually informed even for Venice. The surprise child that I was, she was perhaps more attentive to my learning to care for all women's honours than she was my elder brothers. My father calls her the sunlight of his life, the one without whom he would not have a secure succession and the wealth he hath long enjoyed. Wealth that would be greater had thy father not been so narrow of mind as to insult both my parents and cause trade between our lands to halt, much less the unlawful imprisonment that followed my father’s letter for my employment in your father’s house, and your dismissal of me these sixteen years hence.”

Claudio stilled and paled. He bowed his head. “I am proved even more unworthy than I had ever thought possible. I am now ashamed of my father's actions as much as my own. Clearly thine own mother is a woman worth more than all the rubies and jewels of the world if she raised a son far worthier of a noble and sweet lady. The better man won in the end, your grace.”

He bowed for the first time to him, acknowledging him as his superior.

Pietro nodded with a sympathetic smile. “I no longer hold you ill will, nor do I turn my back on your words. It would be unwise as I have gained my greatest wishes from the dreadful events of last year.”

Maria burst into the room from the inner sanctum. “My lords, ladies, and equals! Oh what joy! My Lady Beatrice hath borne a son and a daughter in the rudest health; lustier cries you could not hear from babes! My Lady Elena says she is better off than any woman she hath seen after bearing fruit.”

Hero, Margaret and Ursula squealed. “Begging thy pardon, my lords,” they cried together, hurrying inside to greet the newest arrivals.

Olivio fairly bounced off his feet for joy and found his hands grasped by his brother to keep him on solid ground and not float away. He had lost all decorum and learned speech, shouting in hullabaloo with thanksgiving and laughing tears.

Don Pedro nodded. “We shall wait for supper, if you are willing to receive us then; we would be happy to celebrate the new heirs to the Viscounty.”

“Thy presence is welcome so long as you are both wishing it,” Leonato promised, shaking hands with each.

The two men and their attendants bid them adieu until dinner. As soon as they had departed for their quarters Leonato and Olivio joined the others going in to greet the newest additions to the extended family of the Governor.

Olivio's tension increased as he walked deeper into the old room. “Still do I recall when Beatrice was born. So close did we come to losing Elena.”

Leonato nodded, a hand on his arm. “I think the angels watched over her, and I cannot imagine life without her these past years.”

Further words were not possible. Cooing was coming from the room, given by several different women in the room. Adoring sounds and praises could be heard all at once.

They entered to an orderly chaos commanded by Innogen and Elena. The two ladies directed the servants and gentlewomen in their tasks to see to the aftermath of the delivery.

In the bed in the center of the room, lying like a Queen receiving visitors, was Beatrice. Sweat glistened off her face even though she had many wet cloths clean her, and a smile brighter than any her father had ever witnessed graced her face.

The causes were held in Benedick's arms. The senor was speaking softly to each child, and the two could only be told apart at the distance Olivio had by the colors of the blankets.

“There, there, my little loves; thou art both born to a mother with the greatest heart in all of Christendom, and together we shall teach thee more than even she was granted. Son, you will protect your sister's right to her education and help her find a man who will protect her and her honour more dearly than life itself. Daughter, you shall remind your brother that he should seek a wife who shall be more than an ornament in his court; I cannot abide a daughter with no spirit of her own.”

Beatrice laughed softly. “Wouldst thou wish her to challenge thee as much as I have even if she is not thine by blood but by marriage, Benedick?”

“I would wish her to be exactly as it pleaseth God; it pleased him for thee to be the most spirited lady, and I suspect our daughter shall be very like thee. I expect our son shall be rather like me, for I fear he is already showing my expressions.”

Elena noticed the arrivals and beamed. “Husband, come and meet your grandchildren,” she said softly.

Benedick and Beatrice looked up at them, and then at each other. Some silent communication occurred and then Benedick carefully stood. He walked to meet the two elder men in his life halfway. “Father, may I present your newest heirs: Giacomo and Luciana.”

Olivio sucked in a breath, not just for one of his names being used, but more as an instinctive reaction once he got a good look at them. The girl's name he knew was for Benedick's grandmother, but he had not expected to be honored given the history between him and his son-in-law. “O they have such the look of Beatrice; your daughter is almost the very image of her as a babe.”

Leonato smiled. “Even though the boy hath her hair I daresay he is clearly his father's son. That face cannot be mistaken; and it seems that way her lips have moved is one I cannot recall Beatrice ever making.”

“Yes, she is already looking to be a thief of hearts,” Innogen said indulgently, her smile belying the chiding nature of the words. “Are they not the handsomest babes ever seen? Only Hero's can possibly be able to overshadow them.”

“Nay, that cannot happen,” Benedick teased. “Mine wife is the fairest in the land, and so our children shall be too as long as they take after her.”

It got the laughter he was aiming for. Then he looked at Olivio. “Do you wish to hold them, sir?”

Olivio noticed that Benedick motioned for him to take Luciana first. He suspected the reason; to remind him that daughters were just as important as sons. The Viscount carefully accepted the bundle, letting his wife help make the handover an easy experience for the girl, as much as to remind her husband who had been long bereft of the skill in holding babies.

The moment he had her completely in his arms she opened her eyes slightly, fixing his gaze upon her. He drew a sharp breath and his eyes became watery. “Welcome, fair Luciana. Never shall thee have any cause to feel neglect in these lands. Thy father shall never permit a need of thine to go unnoticed. Blessed art thou, the image of thy mother. I now find myself impatient to learn how you shall be different from her. What sort of lady and lord you shall each make I hope to live long enough to see for myself.”

He looked up at Benedick and Beatrice. “O haven't you both done so well. I only wish these two were not thine eldest now.”

Benedick allowed Leonato to hold Giacomo and placed a hand on Olivio's arm. “I cannot dwell on the past, for only a fool permits that to consume him; nor shall I let the future command my complete attention. The present must be my focus, but holding their future and the lands' in my thoughts.”

Olivio nodded, but he still could not help but wonder what might have been had he permitted Benedick to make his suit back that first time. Perhaps there would be an entire brood of little ginger-haired chicks roaming his lands.

He prayed that these two would be just the first of the grandchildren he would get to know. And that he lived long enough to know them all without having to wait until the end of time.

THE END


End file.
